


The Boy in The Woods

by endlessnightlock (Endlessnightlock)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Romance, Dark!Peeta, F/M, Horror, I'm just gonna be honest this story is a little out there, I'm not sure how to tag this, Magic, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, References to Depression, Romance, Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, Witches, You've been warned, addtional tags to come, dark characters, it isn't the smartest/healthiest relationship, mentions of a minor character as a pedophile don't worry he gets his, mrs. everdeen is a witch, nothing graphic just a mention, old-time, references to mental illness, social prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnightlock/pseuds/endlessnightlock
Summary: Katniss is angry with her mother, with her place in life.She goes to the woods to hunt and to gather. It's the place where she feels whole. Not so alone.The woods are said to be full of evil spirits. The stories keep the villagers away, which is fine with her, but all she's ever found is peace and tranquility there. She's never encountered anyone on her outings, until one day a golden boy appears.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen & Primrose Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 230
Kudos: 204





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the mood to write something melancholy, so here's this little story.

For many years I fought it. I stuffed it down, those dark and winding tendrils of feeling. I made the voice inside my head be still, and I kept it a prisoner inside my blackened heart, sickening the organ a bit more every day with its presence there.

I didn't think it could hurt anyone else if I kept it there.

I was the only one who had to know it existed at all. It was safe; it was best.

Mother did a terrible job of hiding hers. There was no camouflage. In her, it was loud; it screamed for attention. It was there for everyone to see. She didn't try to hide it.

But then again, she had her magic to protect her. She was needed by the village, while no one needed me, other than my sister. Perhaps the Witch. 

It was ironic, a mad girl needed by a madwoman.

I hated her for that. I hated the way she sucked everything up for herself and left none for my sister or I. I hated the way I couldn't show my weakness because we had to keep things in a controlled environment for her. We had to protect her, even though not very long ago, the two of us weren't enough for her. 

Or perhaps we were too much. I never asked, and Mother never said.

Mother left us for a season after my father died. Her spirit rose out of her body, leveling into another plane of existence where she could be alone with her grief, where she could forget the two young girls that needed her. It would have been much better if her mortal husk had left too- if she'd taken everything with her then. It would've been one less thing I had to care for. Instead, I was left with two barely surviving, yet still living bodies and one vacant shell.

That winter almost killed the three of us. The wind blew strong and fierce through our threadbare home, where it stood outside of the village, where the snow never seemed to cease. My family had never lived among the others, choosing instead to keep ourselves separate for the sake of our "privacy."

The separation began in the days after Mother married our father, a dark-skinned hunter from the village. I didn't understand the uproar, because he was never with us either. Our father would disappear for months at a time, only returning to our home after he'd traveled to the far outskirts of the district to sell his furs. We saw him maybe four times a year.

But no matter how infrequently he was seen with us, the thing wasn't done- _the_ _Blessed_ didn't mix with the regulars. It diluted their powers, weakened the bloodlines- that's what the pompous fools in the village tavern or the shops would whisper behind our backs when we had to go there out of necessity, at least. 

Mother told us we stayed away because it was easier to keep our secrets to ourselves unobserved.

So we lived alone, where it was safe.

And it was safe for a while. But it was so very lonely.

That winter after Father died and Mother ascended, Prim and I spent a large amount of time smearing the holes and cracks in the walls full of mud to block the wind. We huddled under a shared blanket by the meager fire I kept fed with small sticks and twigs, the best that I could do. 

I was only a young girl then, barely eleven, small and slight, not strong enough to haul heavy loads of wood or wield the ax necessary to cut them. That was exhausting enough on my empty stomach in the cold, but when I wasn't scouring for wood, I snuck about, stealing whatever I could from the villagers. Just so, we had enough to eat for Prim and me and Mother's body. No one offered to help us that winter, and they had to have known how desperate we were. They had to have known.

It was a shameful thing- the mighty Witch's daughter, brought down to dirt level, but it was necessary to lower myself if it meant keeping them alive. If it'd just been me, I probably would've starved. But for my sister's sake, most of all, I persevered.

From that desolate winter where the three of us became whip-thin on, the realization that I could very easily become like her, the one I despised, snuck up on me. It terrified me to the core to know that with just a little less effort on my part, I could become her- that vacant woman who spent months lying on the bed. 

I could be just like that if I stopped trying. Sick. Unbalanced.

So I learned to turn any hint of those sick, scared feelings off- the hurt, the despair I felt. The painful, crushing realization that my father- fleeting presence though he was, was gone forever. It was too much, and there was no room to soothe it because there was only my tiny sister and me left, and my mother, whom we would have been better off without.

And I knew that without my constant intervention, everything would fall apart.

How was I to know it was all going to fall apart anyway?

But if I kept it covered up, if it stayed buried, no one had to know. 

If I could disguise it, I was better. 

If I didn't think about it, it wasn't so, and I could go on living despite it. Surviving. I was feeding myself, feeding my sister, protecting her from the dangers that lurked around us, the winter and cold, and the coughing disease that ran rampant through the village that year without my mother's assistance. 

I could feel it, all of it, nipping at my heels, waiting for me to fail. It was like trying to outrun the devil. 

It's so funny to think of now because I hadn't even met him yet.

But we squeaked by those frigid, miserable months, subsiding on just enough stolen bread from the baker, and eggs swiped from old blind Miss Sae, handfuls of tree bark, and just enough wood burning at all times to keep us from freezing to death. 

And then, finally, Mother returned. She awoke with a great shuddering breath one evening, just as the dandelions had begun to bloom in earnest outside of our home. 

How thoughtful of her to return just as things were turning around without her. 

It was touching, really.

Despite the persistent weakness of her mind that lingered upon her return, Mother still retained her position as the most vital worker of magic in the district. She remained respected and feared in equal measure, even with her new habit of walking halfway to her chosen destination before realizing she'd left her shoes behind. 

Nothing dissuaded the people from seeking her services. 

The villagers still came to her with their requests. An enchantment to help their crops grow tall here, a treatment for boils or distortion of the limbs there. A love spell- those didn't always work, because love was a fickle thing. Or a revenge spell; those were requested just as often as love but handed out much more sparingly. The dark spells were expensive and always took more than they gave- coming back after rendering service with a second cost that remained unknown until it was upon you.

We fell into an uneasy alliance, aided by the fact that we were no longer starving; Prim and I continued to take care of things for Mother while she floated through the days. Prim usually did the household chores, cleaning and cooking and mending, helping the Witch with her potions, while it fell to me to do the outside work. It was a good arrangement because I genuinely hated being trapped inside four walls and be stuck with the domestic drudgery day in and day out.

Prim seemed to revel in it. The sameness, the routine. 

The idea of it made me feel like screaming. It still does.

Eventually, I grew big enough to wield the ax, so that I was able to chop dead trees and haul them home to burn. 

I learned to take my bow and go into the woods to hunt and gather- a skill I acquired slowly, beginning that spring day when Mother came back to life. It was like my brain cleared out the infernal fog of winter, and I could suddenly remember where my father left his spare in a hollow tree. He'd left it for me- a parting gift.

Over time, I found that the woods were indeed the place I felt alive, where I could breathe. I spent hours there alone, but less alone than I felt myself to be with others. I was content there. Many an overcast, leaded-sky day, I found myself sitting on my favorite outcropping of craggy boulders. I would assess the deep valley below and contemplate my life. It was a rough, harsh, beauty there in amongst the trees, the boulders, and streams, at times dangerous and dark, but capable of giving sustenance if one only knew where to look. I brought home fish and game, roots and greens, fruits, and nuts. Honey. 

Supposedly there's an evil spirit that haunts the place, living in amongst the trees, and it's presence leaves the villagers afraid to come out. They are such foolish people, content to scrape up a living in safety, content to live like cattle pinned into a pasture. They question nothing; they accept everything.

I always believed that there were no spirits here- assuming that if it were so, I would have known them by now. Unless they found me more fearful than I found them, and chose to stay in hiding. 

Now I know better.

No, I never had company here- until the boy appeared one day.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Like the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy emerges from the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.

He appeared from behind the treeline.

A golden boy. He was fair, slender, but broad through the shoulders. I studied his large hands and feet, his form reminding me of the young men in the village, the ones I would have attended the parish school with if I'd been allowed to go. I didn't know any of them, but I'd begun to watch them with a curiosity of late. They were not quite men, but not quite boys-waiting for their bodies to grow into their features, like this one.

His gaze was steady as he approached, and I studied him, fascinated, seemingly frozen in place by the strength of spirit that emanated from him. 

Typically, I was good at reading a person's aura- a very small gift bestowed on me by my birthright as a daughter of one of _The_ _Blessed_ , and alas, the only thing magical about me. 

This boy's aura seemed obscured, its edges blurred and bright. Unreadable. 

Mother told me once that those who could not be read were one of three things: a member of _The Blessed,_ an uncommonly good person, or a horrifically evil creature. I could not know which of the three I beheld. Surely it couldn't be the last? 

Of course not. Nothing so beautiful could be so wrong.

The longer I watched the golden boy, the more fully the deep heat that had begun high and tight in my chest filtered its way down through my belly, finally soaking into the nerves between my legs. 

He was male perfection, formed like a fallen angel. 

Light, light blue eyes- large and innocent-looking, framed by luxurious lashes, peering at me from beneath a strong brow. His hair was thick, with deep waves that seemed to go in every conceivable direction without looking a mess. His jaw was firm and square, and centering his face was a straight, masculine nose that came to rest just above a pair of full lips.

An obscenely pretty face, handsome enough to make my humble appearance even more so by comparison. 

I felt immediately smaller, less _everything_ , as he approached. The fine black strands that covered my scalp seemed to lose their shine; my eyes that had been described as _silver once,_ I realized they were actually grey- flat, dull, grey. My slender form seemed even less feminine; my curves were so diminutive as to become nonexistent. I could almost feel my breasts sinking inside my chest cavity.

And then each of my rapidly gathered, preconceived notions of him were thrown into the wind when he smiled at me. 

I can't believe I thought him beautiful before that moment, because he was like the sunrise- powerful, hot, and leaving me to burn.

"Hello," he said, stopping a fair distance away.

"Hello," I managed.

"Would you like some company?" He asked, approaching slowly once again. "I must confess that I would greatly."

My heart crept up into my throat, each pulse thunder in my ears. I straightened to my full, unimpressive height. "I have a knife. I know how to use it," I said, cringing at the way my voice shook. There went my self-preservation.

He laughed at that and lowered himself onto a flat portion of the granite outcropping, remaining some few feet away from me. "I don't doubt that. I hope I never need to find out if you do."

I flushed and looked down at my hands. They were rough and calloused, with threads of dirt underneath the nails and between the crevices of my fingers. It was typical for me. I rarely thought of my appearance, but that day I wished that I had. "I hope I do not need to show you."

"Are you always so suspicious of newcomers?" His words were light, airy, conveying to me that I shouldn't take him as a real threat to my safety.

"I don't meet many," I told him, lifting my feet to rest on the rock where I sat. I pulled my legs up, glad I wore breeches today and tucked my chin into my knees. "I'm usually alone. Folks don't have much use for me, nor I for them. I avoid them all when possible."

His mouth crooked up in one corner then. "Those people are foolish."

I stared straight ahead; I felt the blush tingle it's way up my neck and across my face. The boy was a flatterer, with golden words to match his golden looks. "I'm Peeta," he told me, ignoring my discomfort. 

People say I'm prickly, like one of the hedgehogs the villagers installed in their gardens for insect control, but never wanted to be bothered with afterward- useful, not likable, and I felt every bit of one then. "Katniss," I answered, more nervous than eager. "Are you out here often?"

"I'm… around," Peeta said. "I come and go."

"I've never seen you here."

"I've seen you lots of times," he told me boldly, letting his eyes skate over me. 

My hand crept to the cover of my bag, fingers curling around the outline of the knife inside. I felt better at the physical reminder; there was only a thin layer of leather between me and self-protection. 

His comment left me uneasy. How long had he been following me? How was I not aware? 

Why did the larger part of me feel thrilled and not frightened?

"It's hard not to. You're a fascinating creature, Katniss Everdeen," Peeta confessed readily. It was strange how bold he was in telling me these things. 

But why wouldn't he be? 

He shone brighter than the sun, and it is not a mortal's place to question the sun.

"How did you know my surname?" I asked, my breath hitching despite my wish that it wouldn't. I could feel my emotions escaping, and that wouldn't do. 

"I've heard it spoken. You are a daughter of _The_ _Blessed,_ are you not?" he asked softly, catching and holding my gaze. 

I felt trapped. Here was the moment where I would disappoint, as always. "Only by half," I whispered resignedly. "So, it doesn't mean much of anything."

"But your father was a mighty hunter, renowned for his abilities. And I can't help but see that his daughter has the same gift," Peeta said, not unkindly. "And that is something. You are quite special, Katniss Everdeen."

I shook my head as if to rid myself of the compliment. I couldn't enjoy them, even the few that I'd had in my seventeen years. 

He stood then, crossing the short distance between us. When I remained still, he sat down again, much closer this time. 

If I reached my hand, the one not occupied with hovering over my knife, I could touch him. 

I clenched my fingers to stop myself because I genuinely wanted to feel him. It was not just his beauty that compelled me, but an underlying strength I knew was there. A steadiness that my reckless, sick heart craved for itself.

"Tell me about yourself," Peeta asked gently. He took my hand in his as if he'd read my thoughts. I was so weak then, newly-starved for his warmth, that I didn't fight it. "The only things I know about you are surface, and I want to know it all. You fascinate me, _Hunter Girl_ _Half-Blessed_ ," he teased, bestowing me with a smile that felt like it was made for me alone. 

Like it was a secret we shared.

It was at that moment when my fears slipped away, leaving me entirely defenseless.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


I sat with him for hours that first day, talking more about myself than I ever had. 

Peeta queried question after question and seemed delighted with each answer I gave him. He seemed enraptured by me, enjoying my company as though I were an exotic piece of fruit he was unpeeling one layer at a time, discovering that each new section was more delicious than the last. 

With him, I was not so dull, less the sullen girl I'd become in recent years. His warm, engaging company chipped away at the blackness I'd let fester inside myself. 

And really, how could my resistance not fall away in the presence of a force like Peeta? 

"It was so nice to have a conversation with you today, finally," he told me. At that point, we were facing each other, sitting cross-legged on the ground, because the rocks had become uncomfortable within a short amount of time. He still held my hand in his. "I've been so wanting to meet you. It gets lonely out here."

"Do you live here," I asked, embarrassed to realize that I knew practically nothing at all of him, "in the woods?"

"Yes. I share a house with my father, but much the way it was with yours, I see little of him."

"Is he a hunter, like mine was?"

"Of a sort," Peeta replied. As a sign of dismissal, he took my other hand in his, pulling both of us into a standing position. "Had you better get going? The sky is growing dark."

It was only then that I realized just how late it was. "Oh, yes, I had. And drat it all, I don't have anything to take home today!" 

As far as I could recall, I believed we needed supplies, but my brain felt encased in a pleasant fog. I was having the most difficult time shaking it off, so I couldn't be sure. 

No, no. I was sure now, as Peeta released my hand, I pictured the countertop, the empty cabinets. 

There was nothing there to eat. I had utterly neglected my responsibilities by keeping company with Peeta the entire afternoon.

While I was contemplating what I should do, Peeta moved close to me. He ran his thumb across the side of my face until the pad of it was resting on my chin and bottom lip, before dragging it down so that my lips parted. 

I heard his breath catch as he gazed down at the open space he'd created. His head moved forward just a centimeter, and my own caught in my throat, thinking he meant to press his lips there, but then he jerked back, dropping his hand and stepping away as if he needed to master his urges.

It left me trembling.

"I think you may find something to put in your bag on the way home," he told me, his voice not steady. "But you'd better be going now. Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight," I turned, intent on leaving, but not without asking a question. A significant one- seeing as I didn't want to go another day without him. "Will I see you again?"

"Yes. Absolutely," Peeta smiled at me, but a bit of melancholy snuck above the surface of his light eyes. He stared at me for a terse moment before finding his voice. "I hate to tell you this, Katniss, but you may find it difficult to rid yourself of me now."

_I don't want to be separated from you ever._

The light, open feeling inside my chest remained in place, even after he disappeared behind the treeline. 

I took off for home a moment later, once again concerned about my empty bag, but not for long. Peeta was right about the game. I found two rabbits on my way- the pair darted out from behind a shrub and onto the typical path I traveled and kept moving directly in my line of sight as if a predator was pursuing them. I saw nothing behind them, however, and managed to shoot and bag them both quickly.

It couldn't have been simpler.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


After taking a little bit more time with my appearance before leaving our home the next morning, despite the curious glances from my mother and sister, I found Peeta waiting on me in the same place as the day before. He was even more beautiful than I remembered, his skin glowing more with health and vitality.

"You look especially well today," I said and felt immediately foolish. Words were not my strong suit; they never sounded quite the same coming out of my mouth as they did while residing in my head. That's why I usually left them there.

Peeta's face lit up. "My father was home when I arrived last night. He'd brought home a feast, and I told him everything about you."

"You did?" I was surprised. I had not mentioned a word to my family about him. One of the voices in the back of my mind told me I shouldn't.

He seemed so excited. "I did, and he was impressed. I told him how you are as lovely as a dusky summer rose. Father loves roses," he explained, drawing near. "I hope I can bring you home to meet him next time he's home. Would you like that?"

His eyes were bright, gleaming with pleasure. His excitement gave me pause for just a moment. 

I wasn't sure if I was ready to meet his father yet. 

I wanted to keep this just for me, whatever I was doing with Peeta. Good things should remain hidden; it's for the best. Your pleasures were safer if they were yours alone.

"Perhaps," I said evasively. 

When his beautiful face fell, I moved to soothe him quickly. "What shall we do today? I have a long time that I can spend with you."

Peeta smiled brightly and took my hand. "Shall we walk?"

We spent the day winding through the trails that run deep inside the woods, the pair of us hidden away beneath a canopy of dense leaves. The trees were old and enormous in that section, giving one the feeling of striding through a great hall like those featured in sketches found in my mother's storybook. The one she read to my sister and me out of when we were little girls: happy tales and cautionary ones in equal measure. Few of them were both.

I smiled at Peeta, and he took the liberty to plant a kiss on my lips. His soft flesh against mine was a revelation.

I'd never been happier.

And with such a handsome, princely young man as my companion, how could I not feel like the queen of the forest?

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"You're late again, Katniss," Mother said when I pushed the door to our home open that evening. "Pray to tell you were not in the woods all this time?"

A frown creased my face. Why did Mother feel that she could speak to me so? "I was," I told her. "And what of it?"

"I wish you wouldn't go out there-"

"If we are to eat, then I _must_ ," I reminded her, tossing my bag on to the countertop. "I don't see you conjuring up meat for us, Witch."

Her face flamed with anger. 

Good, let us have it out now! My emotions were closer to the surface that day than they'd been in a long time. I wasn't controlling them well. 

"No, Katniss, we mustn't. There are other ways of survival. It is dangerous out there-"

"Mother, I am capable of caring for myself!" I said through gritted teeth. "I've been doing it since the winter you-"

"I don't like it that you are spending all of your time alone there," she snatched my bag off the counter and rooted through it. I knew it was to avoid looking at me because I'd brought up that time, her ascension.

_I'm not alone; I_ almost told her but bit my tongue instead.

"You don't know what roams the woods," she added, and I wanted to laugh. 

_My joy? My escape from this dung-hill existence?_ I wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how little she knew of things, but I did not. I kept my secrets where they were safe; inside my heart- the one that was becoming a little less decrepit every day. 

I would not tell her a thing.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


The next day I set out for the woods again, earlier yet than the day before. Peeta was waiting for me in what had become our usual spot.

He caught me up in his arms, lifting me high above his head, spinning me around until I was dizzy. "I'm so delighted to see you, Katniss," he said, after slowing down due to my protests. Instead of releasing me, he pulled me more firmly against his body. The feel of him was breathtaking. "I brought you something."

"You shouldn't have done such a thing," I said as he sat me back down on the ground.

"Oh, it isn't much. Come and go with me, please?" Peeta asked, bashfully.

How could I say no to that?

Peeta led me through the trees- a different way than the one we'd traveled down the day before. I couldn't remember if I'd ever taken this path.

We emerged into a clearing surrounded by hedges, blooms covering the low bushes in shades of yellow and sunset orange. There was an animal-skin rug laid out in the middle, and off to the side was a basket. 

'What is this?" I asked, enchanted by this little cove. I was inordinately pleased that he had planned something like this for us.

"Well, it is a picnic lunch. But you will have to wait just a moment- I had to hide the food so the animals would not have our meal all for themselves before we arrived," Peeta explained, tugging me over to the rug. He gestured for me to sit, and so I did, adjusting the long skirt I wore so that it covered my legs.

"You are very lovely today," he told me softly after releasing my hand, gazing down at me. "I'm so glad to have you here. Do not go anywhere, please."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," I replied, surprised by my ability to respond in kind. I meant it wholeheartedly. I never wanted to be away from Peeta.

He disappeared into the tree line again, and I sat back, looking at my surroundings. The place he'd chosen was like a fairy garden. It seemed enchanted, tucked away from the world. I ran my fingertips leisurely across the fur beneath my body- it was soft, silky. Perhaps it was ermine. It would have taken a lot of the little creatures to create such a fine rug and would have fetched a high price if sold.

It was difficult to believe that he'd made so much effort for someone so insignificant as me.

My eyes wandered to the basket he'd left. A cloth covered the top, and I couldn't help but wonder what else he'd brought with him for our time together today? 

My hand was just beginning to stray towards it when Peeta reappeared with a satchel slung over one shoulder. He laughed when I snatched my hand back. "You may look if you'd like," he said, "I was going to show you anyway."

A fierce heat seared my skin. "No, I will let you show it to me in time." I eyed the satchel as he unloosed the ties. "I am curious to see what you've brought us to eat, however."

Peeta sat beside me, close enough that our thighs were brushing. It made my skin tingle. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

What a strange question. "Can I?"

"Yes, I just want to see if you can guess what I'm feeding you." 

I laughed and very deliberately closed my eyes tight. Peeta was full of surprises, each one better than the last. "Fine then. Yes, I will trust you."

I heard him laugh under his breath and sensed his body moving closer to mine. Something was pressed against my lips a moment later, and I opened them to the welcome intrusion.

Fresh, slightly warm bread held between his fingertips; just a small bite was pressed into my mouth- the flavor and texture welcome on my tongue. "That is delicious," I told him after chewing and swallowing. 

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Thank you; I made it myself. It is especially fine toasted. Now, something else." 

I parted my lips again, and this time something crisp passed them- an apple slice. I bit into it and felt the juice dribble over my lip. I darted my tongue out to catch it, but I heard Peeta's breath catch inside his throat. I was greatly surprised when his warm lips met mine moments later. 

He closed his mouth over my own and met the tip of my tongue with his. Our lips sealed.

_Oh_. Peeta tasted the inside of my mouth, and I did so to his, and I felt like I was on fire, the sinews of my body turning to liquid heat. 

I opened my eyes to look at him after we broke the kiss.

I didn't know it was possible to feel that way. His warm breath was on my face, the corner of his nose just brushing mine as he stared down at me. He seemed shy, hesitant, unsure of himself. 

It was only a moment later that I lunged for him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a rating change next chapter and some additional tags. Thanks for reading!


	3. Hunger

oyingPeeta did not seem surprised when I climbed onto his lap and wound myself around him. I think he'd been waiting for me to do so. 

What was this pull he had on me?

I looped my skinny arms around his neck and planted my knees on either side of his hips, unable to get close enough any other way. I reveled in the feel of the lean strength of his thighs beneath mine.

Peeta's hands skimmed from my calves up, pushing the edges of my skirt along as he went so that the material was pooled between us when he stopped, leaving nothing but my undergarments and his breeches between us.

I was enflamed, growing impossibly warm with him beneath me. 

His sigh was low and sweet when I settled my weight on his lap fully. I don't know what had overcome me. I was no longer capable of thinking—any capacity to do more than feel had spread its wings and flown away. My whole body was aware that I needed more of him, all of him. 

We kissed as if it were our last breath, and we had to share it. 

My hands slid up his neck, my head tipping to get the best angle, delving as far into his mouth as I could while my fingers carded through his hair. 

I wanted to possess him, wanted to live in him. 

If it'd been possible to climb inside and share his body, I would have at that moment.

I felt his member grow hard beneath me, large and thick, and my lower half tingled in response, heady with the knowledge of the pleasure I was giving him. 

It was _me_ doing this to my Peeta, not one of the unflawed, pure-hearted village girls like curvy, blond Delly Cartwright, the shoemaker's daughter. Or Lavinia, the beautiful redheaded, but most importantly, a full-blooded daughter of _The Blessed,_ the one spoken so highly of and expected to take over my mother's place when she grew too old and wizened to perform her duties. 

A throbbing, clenching feeling grew deep in my belly and spread down through my thighs, and I pressed myself against him for some form of relief from the mounting pressure- maddening but wholly pleasurable. 

Peeta moaned in response to my motion. His large hands coasted down my back and stopped to cup the swells of my bottom, pressing my hips downward at the same time he thrust upward into them. 

The place where our bodies met felt like lightning, and I pulled my mouth away from his, letting my forehead drop to his shoulder as I cried out. My lips parted over his neck, and I latched on to his hot, salty skin. The feeling growing inside me became unbearable, ticklish, and squirmy and tight but _burning_.

Finally, it broke. 

Distantly I heard Peeta groan, his fingers digging almost painfully into my backside. To keep from shouting as every muscle in my body seized up, I sunk my teeth into his skin. 

The roiling heat burst forth, curling up and throughout my body. My nerves sang, and my back arched. 

When the pulsing of my body slowed, and the feeling began to recede, I found myself flat on my back with Peeta hovering over me. His mouth was back on mine; his pelvis, with its still-hard member, pressed into the cradle of my thighs. 

His hands went to the bottom of my blouse, and he gave a quick tug, lifting it up and out of the waistband of my skirt, sliding his hand up my burning skin until he had my breast cupped in his palm.

We both gasped at the feeling. 

I just fit in the palm of his hand, my nipple so sensitive it bordered on pain. Everything was on fire.

Peeta sat up, just enough to pull his shirt up and over his head, and I followed suit. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to feel his warm skin all over mine.

I don't know why I felt no shame at letting him see my nakedness. It was as if we'd already bonded by something more significant than a two-day acquaintance. Something ancient. Primitive.

When he had lain on top of me once more, I sighed, wrapping my arms around his neck and relaxing so that he could delve as deeply into my mouth as he desired. I sucked on his tongue, and he ground himself against me in agitation. 

I rubbed myself against his smooth chest- painfully stimulated, despite using his body to find my release once already.

Peeta broke the kiss. "I want to taste your breasts, the salt of your stomach," he whispered, his voice shaking, his breath hot and damp against the sensitive skin of my neck as he dragged his fingernails across one nipple and down my abdomen. My hips canted upward in response.

He raised his head, and my eyes locked on him- a creature so beautiful it made the breath catch in my chest.

How was it that he had chosen me, ordinary little Katniss, above all others?

When Peeta knew he had my attention, silly boy he always did, his full, soft lips slackened with what I knew to be desire. 

"But most of all, I want my tongue inside of you," his fingers lightly coasted across my hipbone, just a hair's breadth away from the place he spoke of- even a girl as unexperienced as I could understand a promise so explicit. 

"I want to taste your desire," he trailed the hand across my pelvis, "and feel your body pulse beneath my mouth." 

It was obscene for such an angelic-looking boy to say such things, particularly out here in the open. But we were alone, and the perversity of it only seemed to increase my desire for him.

"Please," I begged as he bent his head and trailed his lips down my neck, his tongue laving a wet line along the sinew there. I shivered when a breeze across my skin, pebbling my nipples even more. He stopped there on his path downward, flicking his tongue across one stiff peak and then the other. 

I writhed shamelessly, pleasure building deep inside me again.

It was a moment where I understood what it might be like to ascend as the witches could. 

The way I felt with Peeta would be enough to separate the body from the soul.

His hand wandered beneath the edge of my broadcloth skirt as he sucked at my nipple, moving downward until he found the edge of my drawers. Both of his hands descended there, and he stroked his thumbs along the seams of my lower lips. Instead of taking off my skirt, he simply pushed it up around my waist, letting the material cover my belly. He tugged down my drawers, completely revealing a part of myself to him I'd never considered showing a man. 

I may not have done this before, but I was eager for him to touch and even admire my womanly design. I flushed at the memory of where he said he wanted his tongue- I wasn't aware people did such things, but truthfully it excited me in equal parts as it shamed.

"You are beautiful," Peeta said, his eyes pursuing my naked form. He seemed to take his time with his appraisal- beginning with the curve of my neck and my shoulders before moving downward. His eyes darkened as they took in my meager breasts. 

My body tingled in anticipation, just from the expression he wore. 

He continued downward until his gaze stopped below my waist. "You are so especially lovely here, my Katniss," he said, caressing me. I jerked a little at the first touch of his fingers against my wet, sensitive skin. He sighed in pleasure as his hands moved to my knees, pushing my legs apart until I was spread wide in front of him.

I watched his face, my heart racing at such a rapid cant I thought it was preparing to escape. 

He let out a ragged breath and lowered himself to his belly, and I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. 

Shameful anticipation made everything flutter. How would it be? His breath was there first, and then his fingertip delved between my lower lips. 

My hips lifted helplessly into his touch. 

His mouth pressed there next, first his soft lips followed by the tip of his tongue. I heard him make a pleased noise in the back of his throat, and he nuzzled upward through the soft fur with his nose and mouth both. His hands slid beneath my hips and lifted me upward into his waiting mouth. I quivered helplessly beneath him. His tongue began searching me in earnest, plunging inside my cunt, and then pulling back out to lick an upward path. When the soft tip of his tongue grazed the nub at the peak, stars danced behind my eyes. He did this over and over with the end of his tongue going over and around the sensitive flesh. My body fluttered. The pressure was building.

"Oh," I cried out after one particularly jarring touch, finally opening my eyes to take in the sight of his golden head between my legs. 

Peeta's eyes met mine.

The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming.

I moved my hands down, sinking my fingers into his golden curls. His hot, wet breath and the pressure of his tongue and lips pulled me closer and closer to the brink. 

I felt a more substantial pressure at my cunt, and then a welcome intrusion as his finger entered me. I sighed in relief and clenched around him; my body was thanking him for the gift. A moment later, another finger entered, and I bore down on them, wriggling to take him in further. I wanted more, more.

But then he stopped abruptly, his fingers gone just as the beginnings of something more stirred inside of me- the heavy pressure that promised greater pleasure than I'd felt before. 

Peeta was on top of me then, kissing me roughly with his lips and tongue that I realized tasted of me. It was terribly erotic. My hands moved to clench his shoulders, and I moaned into his mouth.

"More," I said. I wanted everything.

Peeta nodded, his forehead resting on mine for a moment before he got up on his knees. He fumbled with the waist of his pants before releasing them, pushing the material down over his hips. 

I rested a hand on his hip when he exposed his body to me. He was firm, his hips beautifully formed, his legs strong, his length straight and hard and much larger than I'd anticipated. Nerves fluttered in my stomach as he bent over me. But it was not enough hesitation to make me change my course. I wanted him too badly, no matter the shortness of our acquaintance or how life-altering of a decision this was. 

I grasped my skirt, tugging it higher up my waist. I wished I'd taken it off earlier, but I couldn't be bothered now. All that mattered was the sensation, the soft fur beneath my naked body, the feel of Peeta's legs brushing against my inner thighs, the warm cage of his body over me. The desire in his face, the desperation I'm sure was in mine.

My chest was heaving, my body crying _more_ _-_

A moment later, he spread my legs wide and lowered himself down, aligning his hips with mine. He moved up onto his knees, resting one hand at my side. He advanced, grasping himself with one hand as a guide, and soon I felt a direct pressure at the opening of my body. 

Peeta pushed inside, finding little resistance at first in the virgin skin due to the abundance of moisture there. He hesitated for a moment, and there was a slight tug before he pressed the rest of the way forward.

I grunted at the sensation, the overfull intrusion of him there between my legs. When I felt his hips finally come to rest in the cradle of mine, the truth of what we'd done hit me. 

Peeta was _inside_ of me. 

He'd made me a woman. I was no longer a child.

I stared up at him- his eyes glazed, his mouth slack. He dropped his lips to mine and kissed me deeply. There was no hesitation in his actions. "You're so perfect," he whispered, "my Katniss, my mate. I've been waiting so long for you." He thrust forward a slight bit. "Am I hurting you?" he asked, noting the way I'd winced. "I am sorry if so."

I bit my lip, letting my head list to the side. I felt emotional, my thoughts too bare to look into his eyes. "No, it is just… it will take a moment."

Peeta's head moved to the curve of my neck, where he kissed me open-mouthed, seeming too lost to do anything else but mouth lightly. 

It made me shiver, and I must have unintentionally squeezed my muscles around him because he moaned. "Tell me what pleases you," he managed to say, with much effort. "I've never known a woman; I don't..."

I closed my eyes at his admission, relaxing more into the feeling of him moving in and out of me. It pleased me to know this was new to both of us. "I do not know, but it feels good…"

When I raised my legs higher, wrapping them around his waist because my body was slipping while trying to keep my hold at his hips, it changed the angle of penetration. I felt him brush against something new inside of me. 

"Peeta," I whimpered. He was all around me, his warm stomach pressing, brushing against my smaller body, his chest teasing the tips of my breasts with the motion of each trust. His skin was firm and hot between my thighs, and I canted my hips forward.

When that sensitive peak between my legs brushed against his body in a way that made everything clench around him, I cried out, stunned by the sensation it caused. The feeling was simply too much yet everything at once.

"Oh," Peeta's whole body seemed to jerk. 

I watched, transfixed as he grit his teeth, and I pressed myself against him. In answer, he rolled his hips into mine before pulling out and pushing back in, moving them again. 

One, two, three, four more times-

I sunk my fingers into his flesh and clawed at his back as the sensation broke all around me. I was lost and found again. I think my soul left my body for a moment.

With a last groan, Peeta stiffened, and I felt his release throbbing inside of me. 

That was that.

  
  
  
  
  
  


We lay together like that for a while, content, and spent in each other's arms. My head was blissfully empty. 

I believe I was choosing to ignore the possible consequences of my reckless actions looking back on it. 

I wasn't ready to consider the changes it would bring about.

Once we'd dressed, Peeta took the rest of the food out of the basket and shared it with me. Bread and apples and soft cheese, and he'd also brought a bottle of wine. The food was delicious, I felt famished after our love-making, and the sweet, dark wine left me so muddleheaded I fell asleep with my head on his lap, his fingers in my hair.

I woke up sometime later after hazy dreams to find Peeta with a parchment book in his hand- a pricey item, and a stick of charcoal used for sketching. I considered for the first time that he might've been wealthy. I didn't know how to feel about that.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stretching up a little.

"Drawing beauty," Peeta answered, a small smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

I tucked my face into his thigh before responding to his gentle words. "Well, I hope that beauty is fully-clothed," I muttered.

He laughed lightly. "Perhaps she is, perhaps not. Would you like to see?"

I had to think for a moment because I'd never seen an image of myself. Most people I know haven't- only the wealthy and powerful can afford to have their likenesses commissioned. 

I was admittedly a bit nervous at the prospect. "I suppose. I just hope that you have made me look passable."

Peeta took my hand, and I sat up then at his urging, moving to sit between his legs until finally, I came to rest with my shoulders against his chest. His arms wound around me, and I couldn't help but think about how I never wanted to leave this place in time. I wished this day would never end. 

I don't want to go back to my dismal reality, the one where I was utterly ordinary and broken.

Peeta pressed the small book into my hand, bringing me back to the present. "Keep your fingers to the edges," he said, "the charcoal is soft, and it will make a mess of your clothing."

"I will," I said, lifting the cover away. What I saw gave me pause. "I do not know this girl, but she is not me." 

The girl on the page was small and slim like me, yes, but her face was beautiful, delicate. She slept with a crown of flowers in her hair; loose tendrils spilled around. Her lips were the shape of mine, slack in rest. Her chin and the shade and length of her hair were similar, but still.

"I only know to draw what I see," Peeta told me simply, laying a kiss on my cheek before embracing me tighter.

"There is no flower crown, at least," I retorted, "and I am not beautiful."

"Oh, but you are," he said, taking the book out of my hand and setting it down. "And you are wrong because here it is." Peeta pulled from the bag a crown of roses, pink and red, and yellow. 

"You shouldn't have," I said, in awe as he sets it on my head.

"Don't worry, these are thornless," He moved a few strands of hair away until it fit me well, "they won't hurt you."

"These are too fine for me," I said, "truly, you shouldn't have."

"Do not worry yourself. I didn't have to purchase the roses; they are from my father's enclosed garden. He manages to keep them growing all year."

"Won't he mind?"

Peeta laughed derisively. "No, he cannot say a thing to me about it. He is away again, and it falls to me to care for them while he is gone." 

"I suppose it's all right then."

He bent his head and kissed me lightly on the lips. "There were white ones as well, but I do not care for those so much."

It was soon after that when the sky began to grow darker around the edge of the horizon, that we decided between us that we'd better part ways for the day.

"Katniss?" he began once the last of everything was packed away and secured.

"Yes?"

"I… I don't know," Peeta confessed, seemingly annoyed with the way his thoughts were going. He shook whatever was troubling him away quickly. "It's nothing, truly. Just be safe."

"Of course, I will. And will you wish me luck in finding something to bag to take home?"

"You do not need luck, hunter girl," and with that, he embraced me, his mouth opening over mine. Peeta kissed me deeply, thoroughly, one last time as if to prevent me from forgetting about the day.

But that was ridiculous. How could I possibly?

Peeta bent over to pick up his things after releasing me. He tossed the bag over his shoulder and gave me a parting smile. "Now we both must go. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

And then he was gone, and I was alone again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


As I walked home with the sun lowering behind me, I contemplated the day. 

It had been beautiful, magical. I'd felt things I'd never imagined possible.

But now it was over, and as I walked the path with the still-present soreness between my legs, I began to question my actions.

Had I given myself to a boy I'd just met a few days ago? It seemed so far outside the realm of possibility for what I knew of my character. My cold heart could perhaps have remained that way a little longer. 

What I had done with him felt more like something the not sane part of me would do.

It was true that Peeta was no ordinary boy. He was unique, golden. He made me feel more than myself. But he was only a young man; a boy who lived deep in the woods with a father I'd only heard sparing things about- I knew nothing of the man. 

I didn't even know where his home was, and yet I had just given him my virginity a few hours ago? 

Not that I cared so much for it, particularly, and I did care for Peeta. I preferred him and his company, above all else. I saw no shame in enjoying his body, the same way he wanted mine. 

No, my only fear was the possibility of a child. 

What would I do if I'd conceived today? I'm not sure how I would explain that to my family.

I happened upon a flock of birds then and managed to hit three of them as they flew away in a flurry of feathers and wings. Between my good catches and my thoughts of Peeta, I was mostly unaware of my surroundings. I stepped through the door of my home, where Prim was playing with her cat Buttercup. Mother was nowhere in sight.

"Katniss!" my sister cried out, sounding happy to see me. She sat up, her face splitting into a wide grin. "What lovely flowers!"

Oh- the rose crown. My hand lifted to touch it as a reminder. 

I'd meant to remove it before arriving home. "Oh, this?" I asked, removing it from my head then and holding it out for her to see. "It is nothing, its-"

A cry came from behind me, a sound of pure terror passing my mother's lips. 

I turned in time to see her crumple to the floor, where she scrambled back into the corner, lifting the corner of her apron and stuffing it into her mouth to muffle her screams. "Mother?" Prim cried, darting around me to reach her side. 

I remained frozen in place, while she was, as usual, was the one to be relied upon in an emergency. So unlike us other two.

Prim reached our mother and knelt beside her, wrapping her slim arms around Mother's thin shoulders as she rocked back and forth as though she'd lost all of her senses. 

"Mother, what is wrong?"

A thin, time-gnarled finger raised and pointed to the rose crown I held in my hands. The gesture was wholly accusatorial. "She's cursed!" Mother screamed. 

The force of her words knocked the wind out of me, and I stepped backward until I winced, my shoulder hitting the wall.

"Katniss has cursed us all," she sobbed. "We are, each of us, completely ruined now."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Cursed?

eetaMother stared into the fire, the low blaze of the hearth casting layering shadows on her wan face. 

She'd finally ceased her shrieking- stupid, hysterical woman that she was, and had settled into this present catatonic state hours ago. The sun had long since gone down, and still, she didn't move. The only light in the room came from the hearth because no one had bothered with the oil lamp, so the three of us sat together in the mostly dark and silence, worn to a nub from the strain of Mother's histrionics. 

I rested with my back to the wall, slumped between it and the fireplace, my knees bent at my chest. My eyes listed closed from time to time. I was so weary. The day had been alternately my best and one of the worst, with the possibility of yet unseen consequences still glaring at me from the future.

My sister sat across from Mother and I on her mat, holding tightly to Buttercup and staring into the fire as well. She seemed to be in contemplation, while I no longer felt capable of it. 

"Do you think she will," Prim began in a still, careful voice, trying to manage the situation with Mother as always- _We must be mindful of the witch's feelings now_ -because she was still a good daughter, while I was not. 

"Do you think she will stay?" 

Prim was afraid Mother was going to ascend again.

My head listed back and to the side, and I watched the underside of the thatched roof, the way that the fire cast strange, long shadows there. "Does it matter?" I said, finally. "It might be better if she went. She does very little for us, Prim."

"Don't say that, please," my sister (as if my words had ever carried any weight in our home) begged. Buttercup wriggled out of her arms, darting for the door. He must've seen a rodent there- our cat was an excellent mouser. "I hate it when she's gone."

My sweet, innocent sister, who thought Mother cared for something other than herself. "I only speak the truth."

We were silent again as Prim rose from her seat and moved to sit down beside Mother. She stroked the long, faded blond braid that hung down her back. "What did she mean, Katniss?"

Silence was the only answer I gave her.

"Tell me what happened today," Prim prodded. "You never did say."

"You mean our mother wouldn't give me a chance to answer your questions- between her incoherent bouts of screaming. What do you think happened, Prim? I came home, and she had a bout of hysteria, because of a _flower_ _crown_."

"Katniss-"

"Let's be honest with each other, please," I bit out, scowling across the short space between us.

Prim looked at me then, her gaze piercing. "Yes, let's do that, Katniss. Let's be truthful." She thought to turn the tables on me then.

I liked even less the direction this conversation was taking. I was not skilled at keeping my thoughts from my sister.

"Where did you find the flowers?"

I had already planned an answer because I knew the question was inevitable. That lie was comfortable. "I happened upon some rose bushes and formed it myself. I had a moment of fancy, but don't worry," I sat upright and stood to my feet, having had just about my fill of talk for one evening. The cavity in my chest ached. Now that I didn't feel so frozen, I was suffocating on the myriad of emotions unlocked by my acquaintance with Peeta. It needed to cease; I could not control them that way. "I'm sure it won't happen again, so do not fret," I told Prim.

"But Katniss, why did Mother say-"

"Nothing else happened," I snapped. "I do not know what it was the witch spoke of."

Prim looked away then, staring into the fire. 

I sensed that she didn't believe me, but I was too wary of telling her the truth. Maybe too selfish. I didn't want to share. I didn't want my secret taken away from me.

_Nothing happened today-_ a falsehood of epic proportions.

I was too raw, in no mood to heed or discuss Mother's hysterical words. Whatever nonsense she spewed, it wasn't my concern. 

No, the truth was a little more ordinary, a little less dramatic. But just as foolish.

_Prim, I met a boy just the other day. A beautiful unworldly boy, and I think that I love him. But whether or not he returns my feelings, there is a possibility you could have a niece or nephew because of my impetuousness. I may have ruined myself._

I could barely face the reality of what I felt and what I had done, let alone relay it all openly. 

It was the first time I'd kept a secret from my sister. 

It might as well have been a large one.

"I'm going to lie down," I told Prim, "I am very weary." 

As I stretched out on my mat a moment later, I didn't let myself think about Mother's nonsensical ramblings. The woman had failed me too many times to heed anything that crossed her lips now.

I was on my own in this.

  
  
  
  
  


I dreamed of strange things that night, snakes, and blood and white roses. Everything was hazy; storms raged around me. There was mighty thunder before a blinding light came from the sky, followed by complete blackness.

I woke with a racing heart. I sat up, and my eyes swept the room until I found my mother and Prim, safely sharing a mat, fast asleep with their arms around each other. Realizing they were both safe, I lay down again, turning onto my side with my back facing the room. 

As I curled in on myself, I had a fleeting wish that someday I wouldn't have to sleep alone.

  
  
  
  


Before the sun was up, I rose. Along with my things for hunting, I packed a bag with clean clothing and some of the scented oils Prim blends for cleansing. I had plans to bathe myself in the stream before meeting up with Peeta later; this time of year, it was easier to do so rather than drag buckets of water inside the house.

I kept quiet, my feet light as I slipped out. 

My mother and Prim remained sleeping as I shut the door behind me. 

I turned once more to look at the house before I began my trip, fully aware that it may have been cowardice driving my decision to leave a bit sooner than I usually would have. 

Or it could have been self-preservation.

Either way, it felt like I was running, whether to or away from something I couldn't say. 

I just knew that every step I was taking carried me further away from my life.

  
  
  
  


I bent over the surface of the stream, taking my slippery-wet hair between my hands and wringing the excess water from it. I only did so after first taking a moment to tighten the length of cloth wrapped around my body, making sure it was tucked in securely beneath my arms. The beads of water dripped onto my toes before sliding off into the pebbles that lined the shore, running downward and joining their brethren back in the stream. 

The place where I bathed had waist-deep water, so I typically took care of this part of my washing routine before climbing out, but today I hadn't tarried. The water was quite chilly so early, and that meant I wouldn't have dawdled regardless, but while bathing, I'd experienced a sensation I hadn't any of the other times I'd been here before. 

I felt as though I was not alone. A naked vulnerability was not what I wished to be wearing while meeting a stranger.

Once my hair was no longer dripping wet, I walked on, climbing over the flat rocks close to the shore, and headed towards the spot where I'd left my bag. I picked up my bag to rummage through it, quickly tugging out my clothing with the other hand. I was alert and over-aware, but still, I didn't hear him approach. I didn't realize he was standing behind me until his hand slid underneath the cloth wrapped around my body and encircled my waist, his fingers digging into the flesh at my waist. 

A soft voice in my ear, announcing itself with a waft of hot breath, came next. "Katniss."

Peeta clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the shriek I couldn't contain. I spun around quickly as he began to laugh, while I held on to my cloth wrapping for dear life, intent on keeping as much of my dignity intact as I could. "You unmitigated ass, you _frightened_ me." I was enraged, my chest heaving, while his eyes simply danced with mirth.

"I came looking for you," he said as I trembled, literally, in his arms, struggling to get away from his grasp. He'd scared me, witless. "I missed you." 

"How did you find me?" I demanded, pressing on his chest, relaying that he needed _to let me go_ so that I could get ahold of myself. 

Peeta released his grip some, and I jerked away from him, turning once again to gather my discarded clothing.

"I can always find you," he said smoothly, moving closer behind me, his hand ghosting across my hip as I bent and gathered the belongings I'd dropped. "I have a sense for it."

"Whether that is true or not, don't do that to me again," I threw the words over my shoulder. I did not like to be so startled. But while my heart was racing, it was not wholly unpleasant. It was thrilling to know I'd been pursued by P, that he wasn't ready to throw me off. I felt my pulse strongest of all between my legs.

I stepped out of the range of his questing fingers and marched towards a dense bit of shrubbery with my clothing over my arm so I could dress. "Had you been watching me the whole time?"

"Not the entire, no. But for a time? Most definitely," he admitted, making no pretense of doing anything but following me with dogged determination. "It was a lovely show you gave me."

"And where do you think you're going?" I asked, halting in my tracks and turning to look at him. "I did not give you permission to come to watch me dress."

Peeta smiled knowingly, and the words he spoke were sacrilegious coming from such a heavenly sculpted mouth. "I did not think I needed to ask after the pleasures we engaged in with each other just yesterday. I spent the whole night thinking of them."

"Well," I tried to maintain a firm voice, despite the quiet thrill his words gave me. I, too, had thought of him lying alone on my mat, once things had quieted. "Despite the… that-"

His smile grew wider as I fumbled over my thick tongue.

I scowled. "You do need to ask."

Peeta reached for me with utter nonchalance, as if touching a prized possession, and the breath froze in my chest.

He ran a fingertip across the line of my breasts, utterly unconcerned with _mine_ and _his._ I had to bite my lip to keep from sighing at his touch dipped down into the decolletage that plumped up over the edge of the towel. 

"I do not," he said, his eyes on the path his fingers trailed. "You are mine, and I can look at what's mine. I observed you for some time washing your body, and it was painfully arousing," he admitted, his voice lowering and his hands caressing my breasts over the thin covering. 

I trembled in an entirely different way, my heart fluttering madly in my chest. 

I wanted him to pull that thin barrier from my body. Feel his lips press against every inch of me. 

"I ached to be the one whose hands were touching you because you were so beautiful, your body shimmering and wet in the sunlight."

No one had ever dared speak to me that way. I tried to scoff, to conceal my weakness for this boy, but the sound came out as a weak choke. 

Against all sense of reason and self-preservation, I knew he was correct. 

I was his. How did I innately know that, after such a short acquaintance between the two of us?

"However," Peeta dropped his hands from my body and stepped back, making me wish I'd refrained from arguing with him. "I shall give you your privacy. Go, and I will wait for you."

We gazed at each other, unholy desire and want thick in the air, dark and dangerous. 

Last night I'd told myself that I couldn't let this happen again, despite how I yearned for him. It had to be one time only. I couldn't take that risk again. I needed to know more of him, what his intentions were, what his place was. I didn't even know what position I wanted him to hold in my life.

But once in his presence again? How weak I was. 

How completely in his control. 

The words seemed to catch in my throat as I tried to get them out. Peeta could have taken pity on me, but he knew. He knew what I wanted, but was not going to help me to say it. 

I had the impression he'd been in control of this conversation since the very beginning as if he'd known what words I would say before I said them. 

I didn't care.

"No. Please come with me," I whispered. 

His breath caught, his face taking on an intense gaze that told me what I said pleased him. I watched his throat bob up and down, and I continued, bolder than I'd imagined I could be. "I want… I want you to see me."

"Then show me, Katniss," he said. "Please. Because I so want to look."

  
  
  
  


I think the two of us fucked every way it was possible to fuck that day. 

My hands pinned above my head, his hips thrusting in and out of me roughly and fast, my legs wrapped around his slim hips.

On all fours, driving into me from behind like an animal. 

On his back, begging me to spread my hips over his face and put my cunt to his mouth. Bending forward and taking his length into mine. 

My legs spread wide over his hips, his member buried deep inside me as I thrust on and against him. His eyes screwed shut, his head lolling from side to side in ecstasy. He'd begged me to tie his wrists to a tree branch with a length of roping before we began.

I think that was his favorite. His member jerked against me, and a smear of moisture escaped from the tip as I sat on his chest, tugging the roping as tightly as possible before we began.

Against a tree, thrusting into me so hard I was sure to have bruises and scratches on my body, his fingernails digging into the tender skin of my backside- the pain only accentuating my pleasure. 

I did not care; I wanted more.

Over a tree trunk, my backside in the air, alternating between filling me with his tongue or his member, grinding against me in slow movements that had me shrieking like the jays in the treetops.

On and on- I didn't know a man could spend himself so many times in a day, or that I would become so sore I could barely walk, yet still desire to be filled with him again. 

Eventually, we collapsed on the forest floor, wet and sticky and barely coherent after the hours and hours of fucking each other like mad. 

I closed my eyes and rolled into him, snuggling my head beneath his chin at last. I had nothing left to give and was ready to rest. I lay covered by him, at ease and satisfied in his arms. The heat of his body felt wonderful beneath mine. I pressed my nose to his neck and breathed in the scent of him, sweet and musky both, realizing that above those notes, the predominant smell was _me_. 

"Did I hurt you?" Peeta mumbled the words in my ear. His hand slipped down to rub the patch of skin at the inside of my thighs. I winced because my skin had chaffed there.

"A little," I admitted as he drew his hand away. I was so fatigued that I could no longer move, my body drained of all force. "But I liked every bit of it," I admitted.

He yawned around his answer. "I am sorry- I did not mean to hurt you."

"I know." I listened to the way his heart raced beneath my ear, slowly decelerating to a slow _thump-thump, thump-thump. "_ I shall survive."

"I don't know if I can say the same," he admitted, and we laughed together.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"You should come to my home tonight," Peeta said as we each pulled our clothes back on.

We'd gone back to the stream to swim, to cool our stinging bodies and wash, and to simply play. We'd splashed and chased each other around in circles, ducking our heads beneath the surface and squirting mouthfuls of water at each other. 

It had been so enjoyable. I could not remember the last time I'd been able to act like a child. I'd never had a friend because Mother had kept us too isolated for me to make many acquaintances.

I shrugged, "I do not know."

I was not looking forward to returning home tonight. The longer I stayed away from Mother's rantings and Prim's nosiness, the better it would be for my peace of mind. I was tired of conforming to their wishes, tired of doing what I should do.

Why couldn't I do what I wanted to do?

What I wanted to do was remain with Peeta. I wanted to climb into a bed with him tonight and sleep in his arms. I wanted to see what his life was; I wanted to immerse myself in him.

"Oh, please do. I'm so lonely when I have to part from you," Peeta admitted, taking my hands in his and gazing down at me. His eyes were mesmerizing.

I gave my answer no thought- I was through with fighting it, completely done. "Alright then, yes. I will come." 

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Here it is," Peeta told me shyly, tugging me by the hand through a narrow entryway formed by crisscrossing tree branches which stood but a few scant feet apart from each other.

More trees lined in an infinite stretch, far as I saw on both sides, almost entirely symmetrical in size and distance from each other. The trees were tall and thin and grew so densely that I had the distinct impression I was looking at the stone wall of a fortress and not a cluster of trees.

"Your home is in here?" I asked disbelievingly, following him through the opening and into the dim light of the pathway. It was startlingly quiet inside the tree walls. The branches grew so thickly intertwined, it must have left little room for birds to nest. Or it could have been the lack of sunlight accounting for their absence. It would have been a sad place to raise a hatchling.

"Yes," Peeta told me, his voice going dark. "Father says we have to stay here, so they don't find us."

"Oh. He is not here now?" I asked. I still did not wish to meet the man.

"No, no. Father is to be gone for a long time now. He left plenty of provisions for me, though."

That did not sound so bad. But it still left a question. "So who doesn't find you, Peeta?"

"Father will not tell me. He says some wish to steal me away from him. But that is silly- he is my father after all and, oh, nevermind. Here we are." He said abruptly, pulling me through another opening in the trees and into an open clearing. "Welcome."

It would have been mostly a typical domicile there. A stone-walled home, one floor with a few shuttered windows covered by a thatched roof with a stone chimney similar to ours. Except for one thing.

The roses- there looked to be acres and acres of them growing behind the house, twisting upward, reaching impossibly high, taller than the cabin. Their blooms were lifted towards the sky, pining for a bit of sunlight shimmering above the treetops. They grew in every color- white, red, yellow, soft pink, vibrant magenta, black, bright orange, and a more delicate shade that reminded me of the sunset. 

"Those are Father's pride and joy," Peeta said, taking my hand and curling his fingers between mine. "I do not care for them much, but I tend them while he is away."

"They are…" I did not know what they were, but they made me feel strange. Admittedly the roses were beautiful, yes, but possibly also- menacing.

But that was silly. How could flowers possibly be menacing?

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked, "you must be starving after all our activities of this morning," the last bit he said around a laugh, with a glance at me from the corner of his eye. 

I felt a grin steal across my face, and I was suddenly brought back out of my musing to why I came here with him, strange roses and hidden cottages and all. 

Because it was Peeta, and I belonged with him.

I was his.

"Yes, I am. Please, lead the way," I said.

  
  
  
  
  


Peeta enjoyed baking. There were loaves, and small brown cakes, and delicate cookies decorated like the sunset orange roses that were grown outside his home- the ones I was trying my hardest to put from my mind. He told me the shade is his favorite color, while I replied that mine was green like the leaves alongside it. Funny how they belonged together as we did.

He fed me more of the bread, toasted over the open fire that he took a few moments to build in his hearth. He whispered quiet things to me, and I did the same, and we fed bits of the bread to each other between kisses, and soon we were wrapped up together again on the rug before his hearth.

After, we lay watching the flames in the hearth. The sky had grown quite dark through the cracks in the shutters, and it was now quite impossible for me to even think of returning home before the sun rose again.

"Come, let us go to bed," Peeta said, standing and then tugging me up by my hands. "I've been waiting for you to be with me there- the whole entirety of my life, I think."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should Katniss have heeded her mother's warning?


	5. Resting

I slept more soundly than I had in years that first night with Peeta.

The bed where we lay together was warmed by our bodies, the ticking fresh and sweet and covered with thick warm blankets, the room smelling of dry wood and damp stone. I was wholly lost in the accumulated sensations, but most overwhelmingly of all by Peeta. 

He curled around, half on top of my smaller form, his arm a substantial weight on my waist, pinning me against the length of his body and cocooning me while his fingers lay open and splayed across my abdomen. I felt protected and loved, safe from the fears of my life as the two of us hovered on the edge of sleep together. 

As we huddled beneath the covers, Peeta told me more about the meaning of what we'd done in front of the fire; he said that the toasting ceremony was a promise, a symbolic union joining two into one. 

"I didn't mean it lightly. Everything I have is yours. I'm yours," Peeta said, his voice low and warm in my ear, his fingertip stroking the length of my arm. The goose flesh there rose to meet him, his light touch pulling me back out of my almost-sleep. 

"I'm yours, too," I said and teased. "All of me, even the parts you may not find so much to your liking. I'm rather stubborn, and I scowl frequently, or so I've been told."

Instead of laughing, Peeta seemed pensive at my words. I half-feared I'd said something that disturbed him, although I did not know what that could be, his personality was so gentle and easy-mannered. Eventually, he spoke, and I realized he'd just wanted to take his time to answer. 

That was alright because I was, unfortunately, much too impulsive by half- another fault among many. 

"I am sure they will be minor, indeed," he reassured me. "My failings will be much more severe, I am sure."

"You have not seen mine yet," I reminded him.

"I promise you; they shall not be a bother. You were made for me, and I never want to be separated from you again."

"Neither do I," I whispered as I pressed my body back against his. "Nor this bed. It is too cozy."

"Hmm," Peeta's laugh was low, the sound gentle as he shifted behind me to accommodate the new position of my body. "Well, we can stay here for a _very_ long time, but don't you think eventually we will need to get up and eat, perhaps take care of our bodily functions?"

"Well, just for those things. Other than that, I shall not move." I told him, smiling, my face turned into the pillow where he could not see it. I enjoyed his company so much; I could not help it. I'd never gotten along so well with anyone.

"Alright, I'll allow it for a week at first. The world can do without us for seven days," Peeta conceded lightly. 

"Then we are agreed."

"But Katniss, I must say something, and I am quite serious now."

"Hmm, what's that?" I asked, turning my head enough to see him out of the corner of my eye.

Peeta's expression was intense as we locked eyes. Eventually, he dropped my gaze, moving enough to rest his forehead against the curve of my neck. I didn't know why he couldn't look at me; after all we'd shared, he couldn't possibly be shy. "It's just that Katniss- I need you, and you can't ever leave me. You mustn't."

"I won't," I told him too quickly. "And I do… I need you too," I continued, my mouth refusing to round around the words _I_ _love_ _you_ , despite the fact they were sitting right there, ready to spill out. "So very much."

  
  
  
  


I woke before Peeta did the next morning to the feel of his warmth and the shallow rise and fall of his naked chest against the bare skin of my back. The sensation of being cradled against his body was like sunshine and spring, a feeling I didn't think I should ever get used to experiencing. 

I closed my eyes again and pressed my cheek against the cool pillowcase, reveling in the early morning quiet and the stillness of the house as fodder for my thoughts. 

I could get quite used to living here. 

My life had halted and changed its course abruptly, but it was good. I was happy. Deliriously happy.

I lay beneath the covers and contemplated what would need accomplishing first. 

I was going to have to return home and tell my mother and sister that I was leaving because there was no question in my mind I was going to stay with Peeta now. 

I only hoped he would go with me to talk to my family about the situation. I was understandably a little distressed at the thought of what awaited me when I spoke to my mother. I did not know what her reaction would be, and I was certainly not looking forward to another bout of histrionics from her. If she could only meet Peeta, I felt as though she would have to understand.

Prim was old enough that I was no longer so concerned with her, and besides- she always was more tolerant, willing to forgive, and forget when I could not. The two of them would probably be happier without me and my sullenness. They could be a picture-perfect family. It'd been years since I felt I belonged there, anyway. 

But now there _was_ a place for me, right here with him, in this strange little place hidden deep in the woods. I supposed with getting to experience the pleasure of Peeta's company, I could even become accustomed to the peculiar rose garden in the back of the house.

"Good morning," he whispered in my ear, shifting a little on the bed behind me and interrupting my thoughts. I did not mind.

Joy crept through me, utterly unrestrained at the sound of his voice, and so I rolled over to face him then, snuggling my arms beneath his and looping them around his back, pressing myself against his chest and tucking my head beneath his chin. It was so delicious having him against me, pressing myself all over him the way I was. It made me forget everything but him. 

"How are you?" I asked him softly, smiling into where his neck and shoulder met in a delicious indentation. "You smell of my favorite scent, by the way," I said, not giving him a chance to answer my first question.

"I do?"

"Yes," I said, kissing him there, "warm boy."

"And that is a good thing?" He asked, his voice amused yet seemingly pleased to be told such things- shy incredulity.

I felt playful that morning and very light-hearted. Un-Katnissy. I supposed being with such a golden boy would do that to even a dark-hearted girl like myself. 

"Yes. Did I not tell you? It is quite my favorite scent," I continued, placing a kiss behind his ear before moving far enough away from his face that my eyes would not go crisscrossed when I looked at him. I paused my teasing abruptly, concerned with what I saw. "Peeta, you do not look so well today. Are you feeling poorly?"

And it was true, that while his smile was radiant, pleased to see me, but his countenance was pale. Peeta was fair-skinned that much I knew, but still- this morning, he was so much whiter than the day before when I had thought him to seem extraordinarily healthy. 

He leaned in to kiss me then, the gesture reeking of distraction. "I am happy, Katniss, but I feel quite exhausted this morning. I must have overtaxed myself."

"You look ill," I repeated, concerned by the purple circles beneath his eyes and colorless lips. 

Peeta took my hand, threading our fingers together before laying back on the bed. I followed, laying across his chest. "I am weak," he said, playing with my fingers while avoiding my eyes. He seemed chagrined. "There is something, and I am sorry because I meant to tell you, but I hadn't had a chance yet. After all, we've been rather busy with other things," 

I flushed at the meaning behind his words. The strength of our physical appetites had most certainly kept us occupied in ways that didn't involve speaking.

"I am sorry if I overtaxed you," I whispered, suddenly ashamed of my behavior yesterday. It was rather shocking to reflect on all that we had done, and mortification was painting the myriad of ways we'd loved each other in a new light. It felt rather depraved upon reflection like an untamed lust had descended on us.

"Do not apologize for that," he said, leaning up and just brushing my mouth with the whisper of a kiss. "It was wondrous; Katniss, I do not want you to think you've been in the wrong. I care so much for you, that is why I wanted you so badly, so _much_."

"But so many times?" I knew my face had to be a dull red at this point, the heat having saturated every inch of my body.

"Even more than that," his voice dropped. "If I had the energy, I should like to do all of those things again, beginning this very moment." His hand unlaced from mine and moved to stroke the curve of my bottom. "You fill me with ceaseless desire."

"Me?" It did not seem rational. "I still don't understand why it is this way with you."

"Neither do I, not in its entirety." He paused, seeming to be gathering his thoughts. "Katniss, what I wanted to tell you is this- I have a persistent illness for which Father brings me treatment. It is a lifelong affliction that I have dealt with and managed to contain; the thing is that I did not think I would be weak again so soon. Father was just here with a replenished supply for me."

The relaxed tone of his words did nothing to relieve the concern that crept up on me. Dread was heavy in my belly. "Is there something I can do for you? Something I can bring?" I asked.

Peeta moved his hand upward, across my back until finally stopping at my shoulder. "No, I don't think so. I will be alright, I think. I feel rather tired." A knowing smile crossed his face. "Unfortunately, I shan't be able to satisfy your carnal desires; I feel quite incapable of that, I'm afraid."

"That is quite alright, I enjoy your company as much as your lovemaking," I told him.

"As do I," he said, kissing me softly again. "Would you like some breakfast, love?"

"Yes, please."

"That much I can manage."

  
  
  
  
  


Peeta managed to get out of bed to gather food for us both.

He brought everything back in on a tray after some minutes and set it down on the low bedside table beside him. There was an earthenware pot of tea and small cups for drinking the fragrant brew, and more of the bread from last night, along with apples and cheese I recognized as similar to what my sister made. 

"Where did this come from?" I asked while spreading some of the goat cheese on a slice of bread. I had sat up with a small plate on my lap, my head propped against the headboard behind us.

"There is a woman that brings supplies from the village," Peeta told me, turning to reach for something on the tray.

"Oh, I find that very surprising," I said around a mouthful of bread. "You made it sound as though you hadn't much contact with the outside world." I placed the remainder back on my plate as I chewed. I did not want to seem hoggish.

Peeta took the knife from my hand and set it aside, handing me a cup of the tea instead. "Try this; it's excellent."

"Thank you," I said, and he watched as I took a sip. "You're right; it's delicious. No sugar, I see."

"It is my favorite tea," Peeta said, resting his head against the back of the headboard. He wasn't looking any better yet. "I'm glad you like it."

I tried not to let his wan countenance concern me much. Perhaps a day of rest would reinvigorate him.

"No, you are right," he continued after settling back with his cup. "My father has an agreement with a woman, Sae is her name, and she leaves things here during the day while I am out, so I rarely see her."

The truth of what he's sharing hit me, causing a deep wave of sorrow to roll through me. "You must have been very lonely, Peeta," I told him, lowering the cup to rest on my plate so that I was able to give him my undivided attention. "It makes me very sad to think of you here alone for so long. It's no way for a child to grow. I would not want it for my own."

"Our own?"

I rolled my eyes at that. I did not want to think past today.

He smiled at me wryly, tilting his head to turn and look at me. "I don't see a tremendous difference between our situations, love. I have been lonely here while mostly alone, while you have been lonely with your mother and sister present in the home."

"Still… it seems worse to have no one else."

Peeta shrugged. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, setting the now empty cup to rest on his lap. "There are worse things than being alone."

  
  
  
  


Much as I wanted to pretend it wasn't so, Peeta's condition worsened considerably throughout the day. He didn't take anything to eat when I did that morning, only managing a cup of tea before he fell back to sleep.

At first, while he slept, I got up and washed, putting my clothes back on and returning the tray to the kitchen. While there, I especially avoided looking at the rose garden behind the house. Those flowers were unnatural- I felt as though they were waiting to get me.

I would need to speak to Peeta about cutting them down, perhaps. At least some heaving pruning. I would get them before they got me.

I returned to the room quickly after that and climbed into the bed beside him again. I'd thought about looking around the house a bit more. It was to be my home now as well; the thought made me uneasy for some reason.

I made a list of things in my mind I needed to do while he continued dozing through the morning until I reached a point where I could stand the quiet no longer. 

After some shaking, I finally managed to wake him sometime in the early afternoon. I was becoming quite concerned at his unresponsiveness until the moment his eyes cracked open, revealing brilliant blue against his pale skin. "Peeta," I said, leaning over him far enough to pepper kisses on his cheeks and lips, "wake up, please. I'm lonely," my light tone belying my nerves.

His eyelids listed the rest of the way apart, and after just a moment, he rolled his head my way, smiling up at me. 

"Are you growing tired of just lying about with me?" he asked, his voice thick from sleep. "You were the one who demanded we stay here for a week, after all."

"Well, I didn't imagine you would be sleeping the entire time," I answered teasingly, trying to cover the undercurrent of concern I felt. 

I was starting to wonder if perhaps I should go home and get Mother. Surely there was something she could do for Peeta?

"My apologies, lady, I've been a terrible host. What would you like to do?" he asked quietly, his eyes scanning my face as if he thought I was a dream he believed to have imagined, now delighted to find I was wholly real. "Just say the word."

I climbed into bed and lay down next to him again, resting my head on his chest. "Tell me anything. Tell me about yourself," I said. "I should like to know everything about you."

"How about if I show you something about myself instead? I would much prefer that. There is a drawer in the table on your side of the bed," he told me.

I thrilled at the designation- _my side of the bed_. I still could hardly believe this was to be my life now. Of course, that was going to include a healthy Peeta. 

"My large sketchbook is in there," he continued. "Should we look through that together?"

I jumped up at the opportunity, jarring him slightly. "Oh, yes, lets. I would love to see more of your drawings," I told him, getting up on my knees to retrieve the book while he chuckled at my enthusiasm.

Surely there would be some hints as to the mysteries surrounding Peeta within its pages. There was so much I wanted to know, and so little I did.

  
  
  
  
  


Peeta was asleep once again very soon after we looked through his drawings, apparently unable to keep his eyes opened any longer than that. 

He'd curled onto his side; his arms tucked up against his chest as if trying to conserve body heat. Everything about him was unnaturally still. He looked severely weakened now just a few hours later, not at all like the strong golden boy I'd met only a few days prior. He resembled a corpse more than anything else at this point.

I let him sleep for a period undisturbed, but after I tried to rouse him again, he wouldn't wake up. I checked his breathing repeatedly, and each time it was there still, but faint and growing fainter.

All the while I felt torn, my brain hopping back and forth between any plausible ways to help him. Finally, though, I reached a point where I could no longer deny it. Peeta needed help, and I was incapable of doing anything for him myself. 

As a sick sense of panic settled in my belly, I fervently wished he had told me what his mystery ailment was before becoming so comatose. A name would have helped me immensely once I reached my mother's home and attempted to describe his symptoms to her or my sister.

"Peeta," I said finally, stroking his hair with a trembling hand, "I have to go now. I know that I promised I wouldn't leave you, but I think I must." I'd determined that if I were going, I needed to leave now. The afternoon was creeping away, and if I had any chance of getting to my home and back again, it was time to go.

I observed Peeta, waiting for any sign of recognition from him, but there was nothing. I tried to push the fear aside and instead focus on what needed to be done. It was nigh impossible, but if I were to be of any help to him, I must.

"I can't just stay here and watch you die. Not when I only just found you," a tear slipped from my eye unbidden, rolling down my cheek and splashing on his hand. "So hang on. I'll bring help. I love you," I whispered, "and I'll come back to you always."

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your thoughts on this chapter are greatly appreciated. I love to talk so don't be afraid to leave a comment :).


	6. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went in and added a few lines after realizing I didn’t explain that some of the things Katniss had assumed to be true before her mother spoke to her were not.
> 
> Thanks for understanding!

"Katniss, I forbid you to go back there," Mother said, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength as I shoved past her on my way out, my anger lending an additional degree of force to my actions. 

"You cannot stop me!" I hissed, jerking away from her. "If you will not help, then back _away_ from me!"

I was doing a poor job of keeping a hold on my emotions, utterly furious at my mother's lack of sympathy. It felt as though every ounce of control I'd ever possessed was seeping out the way droplets of water escaped through the cracks in our rain barrel during the summertime.

When I arrived just a short time ago, breathless, having half-run the entire way here, she and Prim descended on me as if I'd been gone for years instead of the space of sunset and sunrise. Mother threw her arms around me, sobbing, but I'd pushed her off. 

I had no time for her foolishness, having only a short time explaining the situation to make her understand that Peeta was dying back in that strange little house in the woods. 

I couldn't let that happen.

I haltingly told them an altered version of what had transpired over the last three days, a version I'd quickly come up with on the journey home. 

It was difficult enough to admit that I had met someone I wanted to be with instead of them. I didn't need to relay the myriad of things I'd experienced with Peeta as well.

Mother grew quieter and much more disturbed in countenance as I relayed my story. Finally, when I explained Peeta's symptoms, she averted her gaze downward. 

And I knew.

"What does it mean?" I asked, sure there was more the witch knew than what she was willing to tell me. "It is obvious you know something, Mother." 

"I cannot say- I mean nothing, it is nothing," she insisted, evasively. "Katniss, I know you think you love this boy-"

"I don't think I love him. I know that I do!"

"You cannot truly love something like that, I mean so soon. It is too soon," Mother insisted, turning her head at the same moment I heard the tremor of fear in her voice. "There is nothing I can do for him." 

"So you refuse," I stated, barely containing my anger. I felt it flare low in my belly and move steadily upward. "You refuse to help Peeta."

"Yes," she said, "I cannot do anything for him. It sounds as though it is too late anyway..."

"Prim," I plead with my sister, who had retreated into the corner of the room at the onslaught of our angry words, "do you refuse to help him?"

She never had a chance to answer.

"You are not to take your sister there," Mother sprung to life then. "You cannot do that!"

That was it. The very end of what I could take, and so I screamed the next words at Mother- loud, loud, loud. "What are you so afraid of!?"

Behind me, I heard the sound of our dishes shattering against the wall, telling me that Mother was as angry as I, and therefore had lost the ability to control her powers. 

Good. I was _not_ afraid of Mother. The only thing I feared was not getting help for Peeta in time. If she was angry, I could get more out of her. 

_So do let us have it out, Mother, as long as it is quick._

"If you only knew what lay in wait for you, if you only knew-" she continued steadily, but I would not let her finish. 

"I am asking you to tell me! Begging you to tell me!" I shouted in her face. "That is all I want to hear- tell me _now_!"

"I cannot!" Mother shouted, just as loudly as I. 

I heard another sound and saw a quivering motion from the corner of my eye. There was a tremendous pressure - I could feel it thundering in my ears. And then, a high-pitched squawl. And then shattering glass- 

One of our windows was gone. And then another.

I did not care- whatever it took to get the truth out of her. It was a very provident thing we lived outside of the village- a crowd would have gathered at our door from the amount of noise the two of us were making.

While Mother and I glared at each other, our chests heaving, the walls creaking around us from the force of her emotions, I stared steadily into her pale blue eyes. Unblinking. 

"Tell me now, _witch_ ," I demanded. " _Now_."

I watched as her eyes rolled back in her head, her shoulders slumping.

I wanted to scream. That _bitch_. 

She was trying to leave to avoid telling me- she was going to ascend! Weak, worthless woman. 

I grabbed Mother by the arms, shaking her roughly. 

No-no-no. She could not go now- not without telling me what to do first.

"Katniss, stop it!" Prim screamed, and I heard her approach rapidly, but I refused to look at her. I would not let her dissuade me. "You'll _hurt_ her."

"I don't care; I am not letting her go again! I refuse to let her!" I shook Mother's slender shoulders, my control razor thin while the walls of the house quaked more fervently around us. 

At this rate, the walls would implode if the witch didn't answer me. "You are not leaving without telling me what to do!"

Mother's eyes suddenly rolled forward, and when they did, I realized the pale blue shade had taken on a new, deeper hue. They were glowing unnaturally, and she couldn't tear them away from mine. "She was right," she whispered, her words a weak sound as she trembled in my grasp.

"Who was right?" I demanded, the force of my heart decelerating in my ears as the sound of our home rattling at the base ceased. The walls settled back down around us. 

One crisis had passed. 

Now to the most important one. Peeta.

"Let go of me, _please_ , Katniss. I will tell you everything I wish to know."

I did. "Do it quickly, witch. I have little time to waste. I have to get back to him."

  
  
  
  


As I stumbled through the woods, sprinting back to Peeta, Mother's words weighed on my mind.

There was much to consider. Things I had always assumed to be true were not so, like why she'd kept us isolated from the villagers for the entirety of my life.

  
  


_There was a time in my past before I met your father when I was to marry the town baker, Kelvin Mellark._

_He was simply a kind young man then, and our families were in partnership with each other. My mother and father ran an apothecary shop, and while Kelvin wasn't one of The Blessed exactly, he was half so, such as you and your sister both are, and that made him the closest thing to what my parents thought to be advantageous marriage for me._ _Our life together was planned out much more quickly than I thought possible._ _And I loved Kelvin, but once I met your father, I realized it was only a pale comparison, a poor facade when held to the light of the strength of my feelings for this other man- a hunter and trapper._

_Your father did not possess "true" magic, but an unnatural connection to the earth. He was in tune with everything around him, and thus could not be contained indoors for long. Despite knowing I would be separated from him for long periods, I still chose him. I could not help it._ _So I understand something of what you are feeling. I've known desperate, reckless love._

_Kelvin was kind when I broke the news to him that I no longer wished to marry him. He took the information better than I thought he would, relaying that he only wanted me to be happy, even while his heart was broken. He deserved much better than what he received from any of us._

_So I married your father, and soon after I learned that Kelvin had married a girl that I did not know well, by the name of Constance. Her family had recently moved to the village from a far-off land. I was happy for him, albeit surprised to learn of his rapid courtship and marriage. I wished them well._

_I was happy with your father, and things were wonderful between us that first year. He was home more then than he was later on._

_I think the events that unfolded colored his opinion of me in an unflattering light, and while he still loved me, he didn't seem able to remain with me for long. That is the plight of we women, I am afraid._

_So after we'd been married just a short time, I learned that I was expecting you, and we were both very pleased. I also knew that Constance and Kelvin were expecting a baby and that our offspring were probably due around the same time._

_However, while I was often complimented on how healthy and well I appeared during that time, the same could not be said of Constance._

_Rumors began to fly about her, how unhappy she seemed. Angry. The newlywed Mellark's neighbors would complain of shouts and screams emanating from their home at all times of the day. The word was that when they argued and insults were hurled at each other, my name was often mentioned. So I did my best to avoid them both. I did not wish to cause them marital strife._

_That was not enough._

_One evening when I came home from the village, a day when your father had journeyed to a far outpost to trade his furs, I had a visitor._

_Constance was waiting for me; she'd let herself in and was sitting in front of our cold hearth, her body withered and twisted, her belly large and distended with the child growing inside._

_I remember every second of that visit._

_"Did you know I am also one of The Blessed?" she asked, the first words out of her mouth. Her voice was cold and flat._

_I sat my basket on the table. Constance hadn't even allowed me to ask why she was there uninvited. "No, I did not," I answered her._

_"I am," she said._

_I remember well how dead inside she seemed already, how empty._

_"How interesting. Welcome then."_

_"I was never allowed to reveal it because there was already one powerful family of The Blessed in the village. Yours. My mother and father were afraid we would be run off if we were found out. And the stupid girl that I was, I thought that fact would make me a good enough match for Kelvin after you threw him off. But no. He hates me. Do you know that?"_

_"I do not think he could-"_

_"He. Hates. Me. For one reason- because I am not you." She finally looked at me. "And you are so happy. It is not fair, and I am tired of witnessing it day in and day out."_

_I didn't know what to say._

_"So I've cursed you. A revenge spell," Constance said calmly._

_The blood in my veins seemed to freeze. "What?" I asked, not at all certain I heard her correctly._

_"You heard me." Constance rose from her seat. "I wanted to tell you myself. I don't know how much time remains"_

_"Constance, that is foolish. You must know how revenge spells work- how all the dark spells work! Do you mean to pay the same price yourself?"_

_"I do not care. Look at me," Constance said, laughing as she used her hands to indicate her distorted form. "The hatred inside me is already twisting my body from the inside out. I hate Kelvin, and I hate his child growing inside of me. I know that I will die when it is born, and I can only hope the spell will transfer to him."_

_With that, she rose from her chair and made to leave the house._

_"What did you curse us with?" I asked, following her to the door, panicking because I knew what the dark spells were capable of doing. What Constance had told me was little less than a death sentence._

_"Blood. Roses. Snakes. Your daughter will be the sacrifice. Your daughter will be the cure," she said, smiling at me coldly. "The true humor of it all is that you will be around to see the fruits of my spell, but I will not. I will be dead long before that time comes."_

_And she was correct. About her own demise, at least._

_The night the pains came upon Constance, everything she said came true._

_She died after giving birth to a large, handsome baby boy, who was never given a chance to grieve his lost mother._

_What happened next- I am sure we did not hear every part of the tale, but enough witnesses were present to speak of the story's validity. The survivors talked of a horrific serpent; its scales were white as snow, its body as long as the meeting house in the center of the square, slithering into Kelvin Mellark's home as Constance drew her last breath._

_While everyone present froze in terror, it lifted itself to a great height and opened its mouth. In a velvet tone, it demanded one thing- the newborn babe. Kelvin tried valiantly to fight the beast off for a time, but it was not long until he crushed by the force of the serpent's tail constricting around his body._

_And there Kelvin was, dead alongside his wife._

_I wondered if Constance had cursed her husband alongside the rest of us._

_The women who had been in attendance to assist in the birthing handed the child over quickly, lest they met the same fate as the boy's father. They claimed the beast opened its mouth wide and swallowed the wailing boy whole, before turning to leave as quickly as it came._

_They said they could hear him cry for days and weeks afterward._

_You were born shortly after, much less dramatically, of course. And our lives carried on very well. We decided to leave the village because there was a great deal of talk about our family and curses. Constance had not kept quiet about the revenge spell she'd cast on us all, so the villagers were afraid of us. Business slowed to nothing for my mother and father at the apothecary as well, so they packed up and left._

_I think they were trying to get away from our family, just like everyone else._

_And for years after, no one spoke a word of it to me, but people began disappearing from the village- young, old, male, female. They would be seen one day but not the next, gone like chaff in the wind, never to be heard from after._ _There were claims of more sightings of the serpent. It was said to drink the victims' blood, but only after he dragged them into the woods._

_Finally, everyone refused to go in there because of the danger- everyone_ _but you._

_I should have known better. I should have forbidden it._ _If only I hadn't been so weak. So worthless to you and your sister for so many years._

_If only your father hadn't died. If only, we may have had some hope._

_And then, and then, you came home with a crown of roses on your head. And I knew then, in that very moment, that the full force of the curse had finally come home to us, as they say, the hens do to roost. Blood. Roses. Snakes. You as the sacrifice and the cure._

_That's why you mustn't go- Katniss, you will not return to him. There is nothing to be done for Peeta without sacrificing yourself. And he is not worth it._

_He is a monster, just like the serpent. He will use you up and spit you back out._

  
  
  


After that, I ran out of the door as if being pursued, but the only thing I was running from was my chaotic thoughts. I didn't know what I would need doing, but I knew I had to get back to Peeta. I could not just leave him to die alone, despite what my mother had warned me.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to stop telling you guys there's only one more chapter. I am a gigantic liar.
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think. I love hearing everyone's theories about what's happening...


	7. Sacrifice

Upon reaching the woods' border, I picked up speed and continued running so quickly the soles of my feet hardly touched the ground, my path weaving and twisting as I cut through dense patches to try and save time. 

The wind had seemingly picked up on my distress and changed to suit my mood, if such a thing could be so, swirling the leaves on the branches high above me, bending and rocking them with an unnatural force. 

The sun hung low in the sky now, and on account of the hour, it was growing rather dim inside the woods, lending a greater sense of urgency to my movements. 

Time to save Peeta, if he could be saved was slipping through my fingers. I still did not know what I would do when I reached his home; I only knew that I needed to be by his side.

“Katniss!” 

I heard a voice calling behind me, so I slowed down, debating with myself before deciding that despite the shortage of time, I’d better stop and wait for her. 

“Katniss, wait!” 

So I did. I bent over, resting the palms of my hands on my thighs to regain my breath while she caught up with me. It was Prim.

“Katniss!”

“I’m over here,” I called, straightening up once more, despite still attempting to regain my breath. I knew I couldn’t maintain the original pace I’d set for myself much longer, so once my sister caught up to me, there would be no time to lose. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked when she appeared behind me. 

“I could not just watch you run off alone under such duress,” she said. “What if you required my help?’

“In what? Slaying a serpent?” Although I had asked her to come, I was not sure I was altogether comfortable with the idea of it, not after what Mother had shared with us about the curse.

Prim rolled her eyes at my tone. My sister had a real knack for cutting through my surliness- the master of getting to the truth of a matter.

“Yes, my broadsword is right here, silly goose,'' she replied, holding a small basket out for my inspection. “I brought some things that we could try administering to the boy… Peeta, did you say was his name?”

“What about Mother?” I asked, my eyes averted from Prim’s knowing gaze. “I am surprised she allowed you to come.”

“She is gone,” my sister said. “She left after you did.”

“Do you mean that she ascended?”

“No, she left the house after you did, but in the opposite direction, towards the village. It seemed as though she could not even look upon me; her distress was so great. Katniss, I did not wish to see you go to your…” the pause in her speech was uncomfortable, but at least Prim was trying to come to grips with what had transpired in my life in such a short number of days, without the same judgments that had been flung my way by our mother. “To your Peeta. Alone. And you ran off so rapidly- I’m surprised I was able to find you at all.”

“Thank you, Prim,” I whispered, moved to tears. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her tightly, but only for a brief time, telling myself there was little of it to waste. I had to get back to Peeta. I could not fall apart here if that were to happen.

“I wouldn’t have been able to find you, but ah… well. Well.” Prim said, seeming unsure of herself, the words tumbling around in her mouth. That was unusual- she was usually much more confident in her speech than I. 

“What are you trying to say? You may tell me whatever you like, Prim. Surely you know that.”

“Alright, then. It was the trees.” She admitted. “The trees led me to you. The ones you passed by on your way were turned over on their sides, their trunks and limbs bent as if strapped down by a great length of rope, their leaves brushing the forest floor. Nothing was restraining them, however,” my sister’s voice shook. “It was Qu… quite a clear path. Even the roots seemed to have pulled back and bunched up at the base of the trees, as though they were tucking their legs to make room for me to pass.”

I did not know what answer to give. Her words seemed in jest. There was no sense to be made of them. I was not the one with any powers.

“Come, let us continue then, trees or not,” I said, taking her hand and giving it a light tug. “We are wasting time standing here in conversation. The two of us can talk on the way.” 

I continued leading us onward, at a brisk pace that resembled something halfway between running and walking. As we journeyed, I took note of every creaking, groaning noise in our periphery, and soon found that Prim was most definitely correct. I often caught sight of the phenomena out of the corner of my eye, the trees bending, branches lowering in a differential manner, nature submitting itself to my will.

How could that be? It went against everything I’d ever known of myself.

“What do you think it means?” she asked, catching my eye after I’d glanced her way once again.

“Could it be part of the curse?” I whispered the last word as if saying the thing out loud would make the trouble come upon me faster. “If it is my time to be there, to fulfill this thing- whatever it is, that would make much more sense.”

Prim shook her head. “No. Katniss, I don’t believe that is so. I think it is you.”

“I am perfectly, disappointingly ordinary-“

“Not quite, sister. You can read auras, we both know that.”

“-except that I can read auras,” I interrupted Prim just as she had me, “but I forget that often. It is so very rare that I am in the company of new acquaintances- ones who allow me an opportunity to do so, at least.”

Prim shook her head. “Do not act as though it were nothing. Reading auras is not a thing I can do. It is quite special to me.” 

I hated to disappoint my sister but thought it to be inevitable. 

Prim seemed quite vested in her idea that I was more than what I was- plain, ordinary Katniss. “If I’d had the power to conjure things, do you not think I would have done so before now, when we were starving that winter Father died- more wood and blankets, perhaps?”

“No… I mean, yes. Yes, you would have conjured things we needed.”

“Exactly.”

“And no. No, I do not think conjuring is your power. I think what you possess is far greater than that.”

“There is no greater power than conjuring.” I laughed at the idea. “Why do the villagers still visit Mother to gain her services, despite the curse they are all so frightened of? Conjuring, pure and simple.”

“Katniss… when you and Mother were… back at the house… when the house shook on its foundations while you argued when the windows shattered… What is your explanation for that? Because I am quite curious to hear it from your lips,” she pried, her voice not unkind, yet firmly demanding a response. “Because I have never seen our mother accomplish something quite like that.”

Prim was forcing her hand, and if it had been anyone else, I could have refused the question. 

But it was my sister, and I could do no such thing.

“Mother was angry. What else could it have been?” I asked.

“No, it is not so. When Mother was angry, the dishes broke. When you were enraged, everything else transpired.”

“That cannot be-”

“Listen to me,” Prim demanded, coming to an abrupt halt and forcing me to do so myself in accommodation or continue on my own. “When the house was ready to collapse in on itself, Mother was half-gone already, her spirit was caught between earth and the other plain. And do you know why?”

“Prim…”

“Because you are more powerful than her. Because she was frightened of you at that moment, Katniss, of your power. You’ve always been the mighty one. The strong one. The driving force. It’s why the trees are parting in your wake; it’s why the windows in our home are now shattered from the force of your wrath.”

“Stop it,” I whispered. “You lie. Prim, you lie…”

But my sister would not. I was sure she thought it best to have everything aired out and spoken of. 

I was not prepared to think of it yet.

“It is why you feel the need to lock yourself up so tightly that you haven’t allowed anyone else in. Because deep down, you know that if they become uncontrolled, your powers are dangerous.” 

I did not know what answer to form as Prim continued speaking. 

“It is quite funny that such powers were bestowed on you instead of I because only a person as obtuse as yourself would be unable to recognize them for what they are.”

“Let us continue, please Prim,” I begged, eager for her to stop. “There is little time.”

  
  
  
  
  


After some short time had passed in which we'd both grown quiet, and after giving myself a chance to think on all that she had said, I sighed in resignation.

I could not deny these newly discovered facts about myself. Still, upon considering each individual, life-altering thing that had transpired of late, possession of my own set of magical powers seemed a minor thing to accept. 

So I stopped questioning it. 

For the moment, at least.

“If everything that you say is so,” I told Prim honestly, “if I am a mighty witch, I would gladly trade all of it for the ability to save Peeta. It feels worthless to make a tree bend if you cannot prevent one person from dying.” 

“Katniss, do not give up hope,” Prim said, linking her arm through mine. We began moving together again at a rapid pace to escape the gathering darkness. “All is not lost.”

I felt tears well in the corner of my eyes. “I sincerely hope that is true.”

  
  
  
  


“Well, this is a bit strange,” Prim remarked as we stopped at the narrow opening that would lead us to Peeta’s home on the other side of the tangled tree walls. “It does put one in mind of a cursed residence, doesn’t it?”

“Wait till you see the roses,” I murmured, glancing behind us. I watched as the trees straightened themselves again to their full height, closing off all signs of the way we came through them. 

I did not think I liked it; there was a certain finality about it.

“What?” Prim asked distractedly, not paying my words any mind.

“You will see, they are quite difficult to miss,” I told her, grasping her hand again so that I could lead the way in. Out here, it was nearly dark. I was eager to get back to Peeta’s side, and there wouldn’t be much light once we got inside the tree tunnel. “Come now, we are wasting time,” I said, anxious to leave the woods behind, which in their darkened state felt like one of my father’s bear traps ready to snatch us up and break our bones.

Unfortunately, I misjudged where the trap lay.

  
  
  
  
  


When we emerged on the other side of the tree wall, I broke off in a run towards the house, all but dragging Prim along behind me. She could not keep up with my pace- she’d never been a girl who enjoyed the outdoors, content to sit by the hearth most of the time. 

She was probably tired from the journey there. 

“Katniss, wait, slow down,” she protested, finally wrestling her hand from my grasp. “I am going to spill over, and my bottles will break, and then I will be no good to you. Just… just go on without me, please. I will catch up.”

I did not even pause; there was no hesitation in my actions as I waved my hand behind my head and continued toward the house without my sister, desperation, causing my feet to fly. 

I was so sure I would be too late to save Peeta that I didn’t even turn around.

  
  
  
  


“Peeta,” I burst through the front door calling to him as I ran towards his room. “I’m back; I’m back. Please be alive...”

And then I came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of his bedroom. 

He was awake! When his eyes met mine, I nearly wept. 

Peeta was sitting upright but was moon-white, and his skin was pulled tightly over his bones. Even though he was awake, it would be impossible to miss just how much more terrifically ill-looking he’d become since I’d left.

When he smiled at me, I threw myself on top of him shamelessly. 

I did weep then, the tears flowing down my cheeks unrestrained in joy. 

“I went home to see if Mother could offer some help, but it was a fool’s journey, although my sister did come back with me,” I told him, kissing his cheeks, first one and then the other. His skin was far too cool beneath my lips and hands, but he was alive, breathing!

“Your sister,” Peeta whispered, his voice brittle and crackling like dry parchment as though every ounce of marrow in his body were dried up. “I will be glad to meet her.”

“You will love her.”

“If you do, then I know I shall love her as well. Katniss, I will be well soon. My father has come back with more treatment for me.”

_His father._ I had not been expecting that. I tried not to let the fear show on my face.

Who was this man who claimed to be his father? 

I pasted on a smile because Peeta was too weak to be assaulted with a barrage of questions from me. Now was not the time to tell him that his birth father lay dead outside of the churchyard. 

“That is wonderful,” I said instead. “He must have given it to you already because you are up and awake?”

“No, not yet,” Peeta extended his hand, indicating that he needed my help getting out of the bed. “He is just out back in the rose garden. The exchange must happen out there.”

“The exchange?”

“Yes, the treatment. He explained that I needed it because the two of us mated-”

_Mated?_

“Did you tell him-” I interrupted, panicking at the thought of Peeta telling this man about what we had done together. Those times had been private, a moment in time just for the two of us.

And then I had an even more sickening thought. Had this man observed our lovemaking? 

The idea was singularly horrific. My face burned with shame. 

And what a strange term to use- _mating,_ like we were a pair of dogs.

“No, but he told me he knew. Father knows when I am weak, he always has, and he told me that the only way I could have been weakened so greatly in such a short time was if I impregnated you. Putting my seed in you, having it take root and grow sapped all of my strength away. But don’t worry,” he smiled serenely as if I were to take everything he was telling me lightly. 

My stomach swooped in fear.

“It is only once that it happens. I will remain perfectly healthy.”

“Impregnated me?” I said. “You cannot know that for sure. I know it could be possible, but-”

“Father is never wrong,” Peeta said solemnly. “Never.” 

He began stroking the palms of my hands with his thumbs, and I ached to pull away from him suddenly.

Peeta went on happily. “And I am so thrilled that you are carrying my child, Katniss. Now we can be a family. I’ve always wanted my own family. I am tired of being alone.”

“You said there were worse things than being alone,” I reminded him, tugging my hands from his and looking away.

“Not now. Now there could be nothing worse than being without you.” He said softly, moving his legs off the bed then and staring expectantly, waiting for me to take his hands in mine and help him up.

I did not want to touch him at that moment. I felt like running like a spider stuck in a black web. 

But I shook that off. I had promised, I’d promised to love him, despite the sick feeling that gathered in my belly. We belonged together; I knew that. I did. I just did not feel prepared to face the consequences of my actions so soon. 

_A child? I am but seventeen myself._

“What do you suppose your father will think of me?” I asked, changing the subject as I forced myself to offer my hands to him instead of running out the door the same way I came. Now was not the time to panic. He needed my help.

And besides, who was to say any such gibberish was correct- my body was my own, who was some unknown man to say such things?

“He said he has been waiting for you to come, just as I have.” With a quick jerk of my arms, we managed to get Peeta upright, and he leaned into me for support as we left his bedroom. 

“Of course,” I replied. “Well, let us not hesitate then.”

  
  
  
  
  


“There she is,” a voice called to us as we stepped out the back door of the house facing the rose garden. It was dark now, and there were several torches staked to the ground, their flames burning high and bright. “We’ve been waiting for your arrival, Ms. Everdeen. Welcome.” 

The speaker was a small, shrunken old man with white hair and shiny, unreadable coal-black eyes.

“Father,” Peeta murmured weakly. 

I bit my lip. At least it was not the serpent waiting for me, that made me feel marginally better at least.

I did not answer, choosing instead to keep my silence as I lead Peeta his way. The old man stood amid the enormous climbing rose bushes, his eyes never straying from us as we moved towards him. 

I scanned the darkness beyond and wondered what had become of Prim. Did she see something disconcerting and chose a place where she could observe the goings-on unseen? 

I hoped she would be safe.

“There is a seat if you would be so good as to help him into it. I am not strong enough to support him any longer.” As the man asked, I did, lowering Peeta onto the stool, which was propped against one of the enormous rose bushes. 

Once he was settled, his back resting against the thick vines, I made sure that I avoided the knowing eyes of his “father” and kissed Peeta. 

“You will soon feel better?” I asked as I straightened up. My heart ached to see him so fragile and weakened, barely upright in his seat. 

I felt remorse for thinking poorly of him while we were inside the house. 

Peeta was just a young thing like I and knew nothing of what had been done to him. As far as he was aware, this menace was his father. 

“We must go back to the stream again soon,” I stroked his face as I thought of happier times, “it was such great fun.”

His eyes met mine, and Peeta gazed at me as if I were his only source of strength. At that moment, perhaps I was. I felt protective of him, then. “Yes. I would like that very much,” he said, taking my hand and kissing the tips of my fingers.

“It is time to begin,” Peeta’s “father” called to us before I had a chance to respond. “Please, Ms. Everdeen, step back, give me some room to work.”

I caught the man’s ice-cold, unwavering gaze before doing as he asked, backing away from Peeta until my back brushed against one of those infernal rose bushes. It would have been quite difficult to avoid because they grew so thickly there. 

I would swear the thing quivered behind me.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love to hear what you’re thinking 🤔.


	8. The Cure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> despite the way some of my friends have enjoyed teasing me about dragging this story out- I'm looking at oakfarmer12 and lovely-to-the-bone both in particular ;) this is the end. 
> 
> All done.
> 
> Please enjoy the last chapter!

As I felt my distress grew exponentially, a strong gust of wind blew through the rows of those cursed roses, causing the flaming torches to blaze even brighter, sucking the air in greedily.

I inched away from the one I stood next to, trying to be discreet about it while looking for another place to stand, one that wouldn’t leave me backed up against any of those infernal plants. 

I kept trying to get away from them, moving from one spot to the other, but the further along the row I went, I only seemed to find myself directly in the path of another. 

The roses were as far as I could see- anywhere I looked, everywhere I turned. It was impossible to escape from their reach.

Finally, after much moving about, I found myself standing in a particularly dense patch of shrubbery, befuddled as to how I’d managed to do so. 

I heard a sound and glanced upward, into the seemingly endless number of vines and leaves and blooms that had climbed higher than reason said they should; I watched mesmerized by them as they swayed en masse once the wind picked up and thick clouds began blowing in. 

I could make out the encroaching storm over the top of the roses.

I was overtaxed and consumed by worry; I could not seem to settle on one thing, and my emotions were paying the price- they continued splintering off into too many directions to control them all at once. 

If I were truly controlling the weather, my only surprise was that there wasn’t yet a hurricane.

I desperately hoped my sister found a good hiding place because I grew more uneasy by the old man’s presence. I felt sure that Peeta’s “father” wished me ill. If there had been any way to make him whole again, other than whatever the man’s workings involved, Prim and I would have drug Peeta through that opening in the tree fence and out into the woods. 

By his ankles if necessary.

I watched Peeta, the way he could no longer support himself as he leaned against the thick, ropey branches of the rose bush. His eyes were closed, his form wasted and weak. It was hard to reconcile this image alongside the same boy I’d met just a few days before. The one I loved. The one who claimed he’d fathered a child I now carried. 

I would swear his body was sinking further inside the bloom’s greenery as I stood helplessly watching him. 

Peeta and the entirety of the situation I’d gotten myself into terrified me as well, but it was like being frightened of oneself. Intrinsic, impossible to separate from, so that you may as well protect and care for it because you would die without it.

  
  


I warred within myself as to whether or not I should try to intervene somehow. I did wish to leave Peeta so exposed in this man’s care. I could not trust him, yet… and yet... his “father” was the only one who could fix whatever was wrong with him.

I wanted to grab Peeta and run away from this horrid rose garden, but to what end? To watch him die?

No, I couldn’t do that. I was no help to him myself. 

I had to take the chance and hope I could maneuver my way out of whatever came next.

A movement, just a light brush against my foot at first, brought me out of my musings. 

When I looked down, I realized the rose bush I had backed up against had begun to quiver just the same as the first had done. 

Oh, how I hated those roses. 

And with good reason, because as I stepped forward to get away, the coarse leaves wrapped around my ankles with lightning-fast speed. I cried out, struggling against them, jerking and kicking and trying to move forward as the vines shot out and up, curling around both of my legs and over my shoulders, climbing higher and higher up my body, around and around each limb until finally, they spun around my wrists. 

I was completely bound up in the rose bush, totally helpless. 

What a fool I’d been.

While I struggled to hold back angry tears, thunder began very n to where we were grouped, not as far off in the distance as would be a typical storm. Out of the corner of my damp eyes, I recognized lightning flashing within the black billows of the clouds, ready and waiting to strike at will.

“Get comfortable, Ms. Everdeen,” the old man called out, his black eyes gleaming with fiendish intensity. He had a dark fire that shone from within, having finally dropped all pretense of normality. Under my watch, his aura lit up around him in a hot, glaring blaze, so bright I thought it could blind if one stared at it for long. 

Now that I was trapped, the old man had thrown off all pretense of humanity, and it was the personification of evil itself staring back at me from those soulless, black eyes, and I knew then that Mother had been right. I’d made a terrible mistake. There could be no way out of this. 

We were all going to die tonight.

All of us. Prim, Peeta.

_Peeta_.

I whipped my head over to him again, full of incredulity for having forgotten him in the middle of my distress. He was so much more helpless than I; my actions felt completely inexcusable. 

I cried out as I watched the rose bush trap him the way it had me, and Peeta, he was already so weak he could not fight it off, offered no resistance as the plant pulled him upright to a standing position. “No,” I shrieked when its wide, shiny leaves curled around his face and covered his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his neck. As I continued screaming, the monstrosity continued consuming him whole, right before my eyes. 

The old man did nothing to stop it. He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed.

It was the single most horrifying event I’d witnessed in my life. “No, stop it! Stop, you’re suffocating him!”

“Do not go anywhere now, my dear,” the old man said, his joy still quite apparent, “it’s almost time for the show, and you do not want to miss it.”

More screams. I hardly recognized them as coming from my own throat. 

“Ms. Everdeen, do not worry your pretty head. _Peeta,”_ there was an extra emphasis placed on his name, “will be fine, wait and see. The treatment always works. “

I looked away then, refusing to give that man the satisfaction of reading the fear in my eyes. 

Instead, I bit the inside of my mouth until I tasted blood and stared resolutely towards Peeta, no matter how much the sight of him made the hollow of my chest ache.

I couldn’t even make his form out at that point. 

He looked like a man-sized green pupa. 

“I will return in a few minutes, and we will begin so, please make yourself comfortable. Oh, and one more thing, you may call me by my name- Coriolanus Snow. It seems that you are my grandchild's mother, so maybe you would like to call me Papa instead. That would be just lovely, my dear.”

I vomited up my least meal onto the ground, fortunate I managed not to get any on myself as he walked back towards the house. 

I was still breathing sharply, trying to calm myself and keep my tears at bay a moment later, when I heard muffled shouts followed by the sounds of two men scuffling behind me. It sounded as though one was dragging his feet while the other forced him forward.

“You are a fighter,” Snow laughed as if seeing this other man fight for his life was the most amusing sight of his. “That’s quite unusual, but you’re not as worn down like the others. I usually let them weaken a few days before the transfer occurs, but alas, you are needed much sooner than usual. I suppose I shall have to use my other form. Go,” he called as I heard the man he’d spoken with fall to the ground, “I will catch you; run ahead if you’d like, it’s no concern of mine.”

I heard footsteps moving quickly, pounding the ground in their urgency to escape. The sound came directly from my periphery, but I could not turn my head far enough to see what was happening. I waited with sick dread for what would happen next. Subconsciously, I think I’d figured it out on my own.

A moment later, there was the sound of something- a _very_ _large_ _something_ , sliding rapidly across the ground, and then a scream of terror from the running man. The roses shook from the force of the _something_ darting through their tangled vines and finally reaching the man... a choked noise as he was captured...

And then…

The snake appeared just inside the line of my sight.

Nonsensically, my first thought was not amazement, but that the villagers certainly had not underestimated its size _._ I would guess the creature to be thirty feet long and as thick around as a mature tree. Its scales were snow-white, and each one shimmered beneath the light of the torches. Its head was massive, its tongue darting out as it moved.

Despite all the changes, the serpent's eyes were the same as Snow’s had always been. Soulless. Maniacal.

The snake glided effortlessly across the dirt, upright with its head held high, while it held the man in a loose grip about his middle. I did not recognize him, although I was sure he was from the village. I was quite glad he was a stranger; it would be much worse to watch someone I knew die before me. The only real question was how.

The serpent deposited the man on the ground next to Peeta’s… cocoon, I suppose one would have to call it. (I could not think of a better describer, as he was wrapped head to toe by the wretched leaves. His form could not even be deciphered anymore, just a large green sac.), and he slumped to the ground. The snake must’ve had a slight poisonous quality within its scales, perhaps a sedative that would transfer through the skin and into the victim’s body, not unlike some of the brightly colored reptiles I encountered in the woods catching flying insects.

From Peeta’s rose bush, more vines and leaves, different from the ones that cradled him, curled out and began wrapping the man up, more quickly and less carefully than they had done for Peeta. There was no concern for his well being, no care as his body was spun and wound beneath the greenery until he too was wrapped head to toe like a spider’s next meal.

“Here we are,” the snake hissed. “Watch carefully now.”

I wished I could look away, but I could not force myself to do so.

Peeta’s rose bush began glowing at the roots, and before my stunned eyes, rivers of sun-colored light began flowing through it, oranges and yellows and white, that began at its roots and traveled outward until reaching the cocoons. 

The colorful lights seemed to inflate the cocoon of leaves around Peeta, expanding and swelling, while the leaves that were wrapped around the villager constricted more tightly and glowed with a dull light. 

And then, I cried out in horror as the leaves gave one last twisting, curling squeeze around the stranger, crushing his body within its choking grasp. 

There was a loud, revolting _squish,_ and then blood gushed out between its leaves.

I felt my blood pulse in my ears like thunder. It matched the sound in the clouds. It blocked my screams.

In the space where the blood dripped rapidly into the ground, new green shoots appeared and curled upward, growing exponentially with each moment, climbing higher and higher while white roses bloomed all over the surface of it.

The roses. The roses.

“Oh gods,” I whispered as the leaves holding the stranger’s remains dissolved into dust.

The ones surrounding Peeta began to uncurl, finally revealing him within. His eyes were still closed, and he appeared to be asleep. His skin was brighter, his form no longer shrunken.

He had… he had… what had just happened?

_No_. _No_. _No_.

Once again, my Mother was right. Peeta was a monster…

My stomach churned, as true panic hit me. What had I done?

Prim, where was Prim?

I struggled and struggled to get out. I had to go; I had to leave. I could not be here for another moment. I had to find my sister…

“Look, my dear, at whom has just joined us,” the snake called to me. I had let my focus waver, and must have missed the events that led up to this moment, because now within the confines of its long tail was my sister, her eyes wide in panic.

“Prim!” 

“Katniss-“ Prim began to cry out, but her words were choked off. The snake had stopped her lungs, crushing them with the force of the tail constricting more tightly around her.

“No!”

“What a strange thing a curse is,” Snow hissed, moving towards where Peeta still lay sleeping, my sister trapped tightly in his confining grasp. Either his poison had begun working on her, or it could have been the lack of air, but regardless of why it was so, Prim’s head rolled to the side as she dropped into unconsciousness. “There will be two sacrifices instead of one. Your sister’s spilled blood and your body to carry on his spawn.”

_Prim, no, Prim… no no no._

What had I done to us?

_I’m so sorry._

“But no cure, I’m afraid. That is just foolishness. Constance did not know what she asked for in her rage and misery, because any member of the Blessed knows that curses do not work that way.” Snow deposited Prim at Peeta’s side, and she slumped against the rose bush, completely defenseless. I struggled harder to free myself, my fury making me rage so that I was wearing away all of my strength. “Peeta is not as strong as I would like him to be yet. So I think another treatment is needed to restore him fully.”

“You cannot do that,” I screamed, panic filling me as the vines and leaves began to curl around Peeta again. “You cannot do that to her! She has nothing to do with this!”

“I can.” He said, turning his back, giving me a clear view of his rippling body. “I am.”

Miserably, I watched as the leaves covered Peeta fully again while other vines began to wrap my sister.

I closed my eyes. It could not be… it could not end this way.

_NO NO, NO!_

It would not end this way.

I felt the flame spark inside my chest. 

Every defense I’d held firmly in check against the despair, the anger, every singled damned misery of my short life, seared and crumbled away, leaving me wholly unguarded. In the wake of my defenses was fury, boiling, and flaring to life inside of me. Burning heat crackled through my toes and fingers, and soon it spread- the raging fire lighting its way through my limbs, my belly, my brain. 

The wind picked up and blew around me. The thick, supple vines of the rose bush burnt away like kindling, leaving me free at last. I heard the storm clouds rumble to life above me, and lightning began to strike the earth, falling like rain around me. 

I drew the energy in from each strike bolt as it made contact with the earth, the fury inside of me growing and greater. 

It built and built. Out of control. Unchecked. 

And then it exploded. 

I opened my eyes to pandemonium- the earth was quaking, long fissures had cracked, and ran in all directions as if the ground beneath us could not contain the force of my power. Both the impenetrable tree fence and the field of roses burned around us, the heat overpowering in its intensity. We would need to move soon.

The serpent was on fire, its scales melting off and falling away, shining like an abalone shell, while horrifically black blood oozed in great rivers from its eyes and mouth. 

I suppose I had been the cure for the plague named Snow, at least.

My sister was awake, having escaped from the rose bush that’d held both her and Peeta captive. She looked mostly unharmed, other than sooty black smudges and some singed hair. “Katniss, we have to get him away from the flames.”

I looked down at Peeta then. His eyes still closed and curled in on himself in sleep—beautiful, innocent boy. I realized then he’d no idea as to exactly what Snow’s “treatment” had entailed. Peeta’s spirit was just intrinsically too pure for him to be such a horrific monster. 

I recalled an old term. Incubus.

For a moment, I wondered it would have been better to leave him there to burn. I doubted if anything would change for Peeta after this. He would still need to feed, to take life from others. And perhaps that realization should have swayed me; it did not.

I couldn’t leave him there to die. I was too selfish. 

Monster or not, I loved him more than my own life. None of what had transpired was his fault- Peeta hadn’t asked for any of it. He was the victim of a curse, just as the rest of us were.

According to several sources, I was carrying his child. And all children needed a father. I could attest to that, as could Peeta.

  
  
  
  
  


Our mother showed up soon after the fire had died down, just as Prim and I had finished dragging Peeta away from the flames. There was a string of villagers in tow, ready and willing to offer their help. 

I was touched by their collective concern for us, truly. I threw my arms around Mother and cried. 

Some of the men carried Peeta inside the house to rest. The little cottage had somehow remained intact despite the fire. 

Peeta didn’t wake up for hours afterward.

By the time morning was blooming along the horizon, after ascertaining the two of us would be alright on our own, first the villagers and then Mother left Peeta and me alone. 

She promised to come to check on me soon.

I kissed and hugged my sister goodbye for much too long, grateful she was still there for me to do so. Prim promised to visit me often.

Once Peeta was awake again, and we were alone, we did not talk of things. There would be much to discuss later, but I was too tired for any of it then. Instead, we climbed into the bed where he held me.

Moments later, I was asleep, right where I wanted to be.

  
  
  
  
  


A month later, when she came to visit us, my mother confirmed my pregnancy. 

Surprisingly enough, I was happy at the news.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Five months later, when my belly had become large with our child and Peeta had begun fade, his body grown white and frail again, a few of the villagers showed up at our door with a man bound up in ropes. 

They said his name was Cray, and he had been discovered with his hands inside the front of a small child’s breeches. 

They would appreciate it greatly if Peeta could take care of their “problem” for them.

“Gladly,” I said, my hand moving to my rounded belly. A rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. “Leave the man bound up next to the house. Peeta will be glad to take care of him.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest, I debated the entire time I was writing this story whether or not I was going to kill Prim off. 
> 
> In the end I just couldn't do it. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought, and thank you for reading!


End file.
